


One More Time, With Feeling

by PeppyDragon



Series: The Bucket List [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 12:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11441007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyDragon/pseuds/PeppyDragon
Summary: (Part 2 of 4 of the Bucket List Series.  Complete re-write of the 2012 original.  Originally posted on fanfiction.net)It has been a very long two years.  Garrus had lost everyone - he had alienated his family; he and his vigilante crew were betrayed by a man Garrus thought was his friend; and his girlfriend was killed far away, cold and alone, her last moments filled with silence and suffocation.When Shepard arrives - two years after being pronounced dead, the same paragon in shining armor - Garrus' heart nearly bursts.  On the surface, everything seems fine.Until it doesn't.- Jane Shepard/Garrus Vakarian || Takes place during the changed events of ME2 -





	1. Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Welcome Back! I still don't own anything, so please don't sue!
> 
> This is Part 2 of 4 in the Bucket List Series. Please read Part 1, _Hollow Life,_ before this one. Things will make more sense. :)
> 
> The title song for this story is ["One More Time, With Feeling," by Regina Spektor.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srL9vJ_O8eI)
> 
> The title song for this chapter is ["Closer," by Majik.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJg_iQxzeWs)
> 
> Please Enjoy!

#  ****

* * *

# 

Garrus fell onto one of the bullet-ridden couches, his heart pounding in his chest.  He was having difficulty breathing - no doubt from the concussive round a particularly sneaky Blood Pack initiate managed to hit him with.

 

His father had known this would happen.  Garrus had made the mistake of calling the Vakarian patriarch during his last momentary breather.  He had told Castis he was just doing some target practice.  But his father knew better - Castis always knew better.

 

 _Come home,_ he’d said as if it was that easy.   _Come home.  We’ll figure the rest out then._

 

Garrus pushed the thought from his mind and called up his omni-tool interface.  He coughed as he pressed his fingers along the pathways to a single folder marked _Jane._

 

In it, there were saved comm messages from his old omni-tool - shared pings that bordered on the silly and sappy in equal measures.  

 

There was also a single picture, the only picture he had of them.

 

It had been taken in Deadwood, South Dakota.  On Earth.  On their first and only road trip, their first and only vacation together.

 

Garrus wished that he had taken some of the physical copies from Shepard.  He had teased her for them when she bought them - who needed physical copies when anything could be shared digitally? - but now he understood.

 

He wanted to trace the curve of her jaw, her mischievous smirk, the way her body leaned into his as she kissed his cheek.  

 

He just wanted to touch her again.  To feel her soft, thin skin below his talons, below his face plates.  Her lips on his brow, her hands beneath his fringe.

 

It had been two years.   _Two years, two months and four days,_ Garrus thought morosely, staring down at the flicking image floating above his omni-tool.  And even so, his heart still broke every moment when he realized she was dead.

 

The orange interface of his omni-tool ruined the color of her hair - the vibrant red drowned out into something brassy. Her green eyes looked brown.  She was muted and murky.

 

He had hated the pictures when they had taken them.  But now it was his most prized possession - it was all he had left of her.  That and her words leading up to the day she died, just a week after she left him on the Citadel.  Just four days after arriving in the Amada System to investigate possible geth activity.

 

The building shuddered and Garrus was ripped out of his revelry.  His self-loathing. _If only I had been there,_ he thought as he took position, wearily gazing through his scope at the incoming mercs.   _If only I had insisted. Made her see._

 

He knew she was gone, that nothing could change that, but things had seemed so pointless since she died.  His loneliness had faded for a brief flicker of time.  He had his crew - the men he trusted more than anyone else alive.  The men he swore to protect, kill for, die for.

 

And then, when he wasn’t looking, he was betrayed.  When he stopped paying attention, when his vigilance had slipped… he lost them all.

 

Just like he’d lost her.  One moment they were there, his men and Shepard, and then they were just... gone. Snuffed out of existence, out of his life.  Forever.

 

He took a shot, watching a young merc’s face explode in gore, splashing onto the men closest to him.  Garrus loaded a concussive shot, watching another merc die before he realized he was hit - another stumbled over with a broken leg from the shockwave.

 

Her words, those last words, still haunted him.  Still filtered into his mind, unbidden and malicious.

 

_Shepard, J: Hey you.  I know you aren’t up yet, and I know we’re supposed to talk in the morning, but… I just wanted to reach out.  Let you know I’m thinking about you._

 

_Shepard, J: I have one of those Deadwood pictures on my bedside table.  Joker was pretty excited to tease me about it the last time he was up for drinks (okay, that happened about 2 hours ago -- shhh)._

 

_Shepard, J: I miss you._

 

_Shepard, J: I know this is probably silly and embarrassing.  But I’m tipsy and just… wanted you to know, I guess.  To know I care and that I can’t wait to get back to you._

 

_Shepard, J: I’m heading to bed now.  I hope you’re sleeping well and that you have a less stressful day tomorrow.  Try not to let Pallin piss you off - he’s a dick._

 

_Shepard, J: I’m coming back for you. I promise. Later, alligator._

 

The next morning, Garrus had asked a human officer what the phrase meant.   _Later, alligator._ He had only shrugged, saying, “It’s just a thing we say.”  

 

And within three hours of that statement, Garrus was notified that his former commander, his former lover, was dead.

 

Garrus lined up another shot, feeling his throat clogging.  He knew he couldn’t be thinking about all of that now, now while he was fighting just to stay alive.

 

 _But why am I fighting?_ He absently asked himself as he let off an overload on two shielded mercs.   _I could just… lie down.  Be with her again.  Touch her jaw and her mouth and her thin, silky skin._

 

What was it Castis had just said, not an hour earlier over the comm?   _If you have one bullet left, no matter how bad things are… there’s a chance._

 

Garrus grumbled at the phrase.  It was just like Castis to impart such hopeful military nonsense.  What if Garrus didn’t want a chance?  What if he was ready to just… let it end?

 

And then he saw it.  Three people broke from the crowd, their movements different than the others.  Skilled, highly trained.

 

_Vakarian, G: I miss you.  I keep thinking about that hotel room with the waterfall outside.  Branson.  I told you it reminded me of home and you insisted we spend the night there._

 

_Vakarian, G: I should have kissed you that night… saved us both a lot of trouble and awkwardness.  But… I like our story, Shepard.  I like that we had awkwardness._

 

_Vakarian, G: My omni-tool is either acting up again, or you forgot about our call.  I won’t give you too hard of a time, but I think this warrants me saying something you won’t like.  I obviously miss you more._

 

_Vakarian, G: I am heading into work.  Call when you can - I’ll try to get out early when you call.  I just… I really need to hear your voice._

 

_Vakarian, G: Shepard, where are you?  You’re all over the vids.  They’re saying you’re dead.  Is this some kind of joke?_

 

_Vakarian, G: Jane, call me.  Now._

 

_Vakarian, G: This isn’t funny.  I need you to call me or ping me… Spirits, Shepard, just get back to me._

 

 _Alliance,_ he realized as he watched the three move. _Or some kind of human military program._  They were quick and efficient, light on their feet, slightly crouched, compact, shielding vital areas.

 

He lobbed a concussive shot at the group, dialing the force down to ten-percent.  He watched the leader stumble back, brushing sparks from her armor.  And it was a _her,_ Garrus realized, seeing the chest plate and the slender slope of a waist. N7 armor. Garrus almost forgot to breathe.

 

The leader was moving again, not shooting at Garrus.  In fact, she seemed to be shooting the mercs around her.

 

Something was nagging at the base of his skull while he shot the stragglers coming across the bridge.  Gunfire was echoing in the room below him - the three who were, for some reason, helping him must have made it inside.

 

Silence rang out below and Garrus could hear heavy boots coming up the stairs.  He let out a sigh, preparing for a shot in the back.  Even so, he didn’t move.  He trained his rifle on a young man who was hiding behind a crate, looking terrified.

 

Another Omega street rat who bit off more than he could chew.

 

“Archangel?”

 

Garrus’ heart stopped in his chest.  That voice.  The slight lilt. The same lilt _she_ had when she said his name.

 

The kid hopped over cover and started running for the building.  Garrus sighed and shot his knee, watching the kid hit the bridge with a sickening _pop,_ crying out in agony.

 

Garrus slowly turned and felt his chest constrict.  The leader had pulled her helmet off, a waterfall of sleek red hair spilling out around an alabaster face and eyes the color of emeralds.  “Are you Archangel?” she asked, looking around the room.  “I, ah… I assume so since you’re the only one here.”

 

Garrus glanced at the other two she was with - both human, a woman and a man.  Neither of them seemed particularly interested in what was happening in front of them.  The woman, especially, looked as if there was somewhere else she would rather be.

 

Garrus chuckled, unable to help it.  Inexplicably, Jane Shepard was standing in front of him.  Or a very convincing AI of Jane Shepard.

 

Garrus slowly slid his rifle onto one of the couches, ignoring how the human male and female trained their guns on him when he moved.  He reached up, unclipping his helmet from his armor.  He tossed it onto the couch, as well, and met Shepard’s gaze.

 

At first, she was shocked.  The way her mouth parted wordlessly and her eyes widened… Garrus wanted to laugh.  If she wasn’t Shepard, she was a damn good imitation.

 

“Garrus?” she whispered, dropping her own sniper rifle, the gun clattering to the floor. That lilt.  The way her eyelids blinked rapidly in disbelief.

 

Garrus could see her hands trembling from where he stood, but he was still wary.  “Shepard.  They said you were dead.”

 

Shepard shook her head wordlessly.  “I… I was, I mean… they say I was, I don’t remember….”  Her words trailed off and she blinked, looking around the room in a daze.  “Garrus, how did this happen?”

 

“It’s a long story, Shepard,” Garrus sighed, glancing over his shoulder.  “It’s been a long fucking two years.”  A new group of mercs was fanning out around the mouth of the bridge.  A mech was firing up, as well.

 

“We’d better get ready,” Garrus grumbled.  “If you’re planning on sticking around to help?”

 

“Of course we are,” Shepard said, sounding hurt at the insinuation.  Garrus leaned down to grab his rifle and Shepard moved toward him, standing so close he could smell the vanilla in her hair.  The same scent.  It made his mouth water, remembering that scent surrounding him as she moved on top of him, below him, around him.   

 

And then she reached out to touch him.  It was a gentle caress of her fingers across the back of his waist, barely felt through the armor.  

 

It was what she would do when they were in public on Earth, every time she wanted to stay discreet while still reassuring herself that he was there with her.

 

Garrus felt his heart burst at that single touch, the brush of her fingertips, and he grabbed her arms before she could pull away.  

 

“Is it really you?” he breathed softly.

 

Shepard smiled sadly.  “I’ve been asking myself that since I woke up.”  

 

That was the last piece Garrus needed to know she was real.  He knew her face, the way she smiled without smiling, the way her brows dipped and her eyelids drooped when she was trying not to appear sad.  She had promised him she would never lie to him again in her cabin of the SR-1, on their way back to the Citadel from Earth.  She had promised that she would always tell him the truth -  and he knew that she had been serious.  She wouldn’t lie to him, even if it was more convenient than telling him the truth.  Shepard honored her promises.

 

Garrus didn’t care that her crew was there, watching them both with confusion and annoyance.

 

“We need to get downstairs and cover the entrances,” the female said, her accent scrambling his translators for a moment.

 

“Then go,” Shepard said simply.  “I’ll be up here with my sniper… rifle,” she added, chuckling to herself.

 

Garrus couldn’t help the mandible wiggles that ensued.  Her sniper.  Him.  He leaned down and brushed her lips with his mouth plates, something he never thought he would do ever again.  Not with her, not with anyone. She pressed her mouth against his, a soft moan escaping from her lips.  

 

The moan banished any doubts he had about Shepard being Shepard.

 

When she pulled away, she looked flushed and pleased.  The cybernetics under her cheeks glistened, glittering orange, setting Garrus’ stomach on edge for one unpleasant moment.  He tried to put it out of his head, but the eerie glow was hard to ignore.

 

“Let’s get rid of these mercs so we can talk,” she murmured.

 

“You always were the brains of this outfit,” Garrus said, moving to the balcony for a good vantage point.  

 

Shepard lowered herself beside him, reloading her rifle while saying, “Let me guess, you were the brawn?”

 

“Nah, I was thinking more along the lines of the beauty.”

 

Shepard snorted, looking down her sights.  “You’re cute, Garrus, but don’t make me break out the dictionary.”

 

“Just like old times,” he said, making her chuckle as she took a shot at the malfunctioning mech on the bridge.

 

* * *

 

Shepard awoke, shuddering and gasping for breath.  The past week, all of her dreams had involved suffocating - the feeling of air being leached from her lungs, never to be replaced. She didn’t remember dying - she didn’t remember her final breaths or hitting the atmosphere.  All she remembered was the feeling of nothingness as she floated, watching the Normandy silently explode, the glimmer of escape pods disappearing into the stars.

 

 _Your memories will come back if they come back,_ Miranda had told her during a cybernetics checkup.   _You just need time, Shepard.  Rushing these things is never a good idea.  Focus on your work and the rest of the pieces will fall into place.  And accept it if they don’t._

 

And so she focused on her work - she recruited the salarian scientist, Mordin.  He was brilliant and fascinating to listen to, but Shepard knew she was nowhere close to smart enough to carry on complex conversations with him.  And then she recruited a grizzled ex-mercenary who was almost as entertaining to listen to as Wrex. Almost.

 

She worked on getting upgrades for the Normandy - she worked on finding resources on remote, unmined planets.  She focused all of her life into her work… because what else was there?

 

Garrus’ identifier had been a dead-end - he had evidently replaced it in the past two years.  She had tried contacting the Alliance High Command and Kaidan, but both messages bounced back with a terse letter saying Commander Shepard died a hero and, as far as the Alliance was concerned, she was still dead.

 

Tali was busy working with her fleet on remote planets. Liara was busy on Ilium, potentially working with the Shadow Broker, according to the Illusive Man.  Wrex was busy running Tuchanka.  

 

Her crew had drifted apart when she had died.  And now they were all leading their own lives, all busy with their own problems.

 

Everyone except Garrus.

 

Garrus was busy fighting for his life in the med bay.

 

Shepard ran her hands over her face, feeling the rips in her skin tug against her fingers.  She thought about tugging the skin off, not for the first time, just to see what was underneath.  Just to see if she would bleed.

 

“Shepard, Garrus Vakarian is out of surgery,” EDI informed her.

 

“Thanks, EDI.  Is he awake yet?”

 

“No,” she replied.  “Doctor Chakwas said you could come down now if you would like.  The doctor thinks he will continue sleeping for some time, but she thought you might like to sit with him.”

 

“Thanks, let her know I’ll be down in a bit.”

 

“Of course, Shepard.”

 

She took a moment to breathe in and out, trying to calm the trembling in her hands.  He was okay.  He made it out of surgery.  He would wake up.

 

It would have been an unnecessarily cruel universe, she decided, that chose to reunite them and then tear them apart.  Again.  Violently.

 

Her nail beds were ragged from where he had been tugging at them.  She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to sleep while he was in surgery.  The only thought she had was that Miranda spiked her tea.

 

She got to her feet, running a hand through her hair, and then let out a halting sigh.  “You can do this,” she reassured herself, smoothing her hands over her stomach.  “You can do this.”

 

* * *

 

When Garrus awoke, Shepard was reading a dossier, biting her lower lip as she worked. Garrus took a few moments to watch her, to admire her, before the pain in his jaw blossomed and he groaned.

 

Shepard’s head snapped up and she dropped the datapad to the floor, not even caring if it snapped on impact.  Her hand was on his undamaged cheek as she leaned over him.  “How are you feeling?” she asked softly, hovering above him.

 

“Like I took a rocket to the face,” he wheezed out.  She grinned and his heart melted.  She was just like he remembered - minus the long hair and cybernetics, of course. She still smelled like vanilla.  “I take it the gunship is no more?”

 

“Blew it out of the sky,” she confirmed, rubbing her hand over his undamaged mandible.  “Maybe not as stylishly as you would have done it, but hey. It worked.”

 

Garrus winced when he tried to move and grunted, “How bad is it?”

 

Shepard smirked.  “Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly.  Slap some face paint on and you’ll look good as new.”

 

“I've heard some women like the scars,” he chuckled, watching her closely, trying to ignore the pain.  “In fact, I think I remember _you_ loving them.”

 

Shepard shrugged, noncommittally, and then murmured, “Don’t ever do that to me again, Vakarian.  I thought you were dead.”

 

“At least I wasn’t _really_ dead,” he returned, making her wince.  “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for it to sound like that,” he tried to amend.

 

She forced a smile.  “Don’t worry about it.  I know.”  She leaned down to place the smallest ghost of a kiss on his mouth.  “Get some sleep, big guy.  I’m gonna need you for this.”

 

“And what is _this,_ exactly?”

 

She stood, her slender form rocking back on her heels.  “Oh, you know, the usual,” she sighed.  “A suicide mission.” 


	2. Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Lost in the Light," by Bahamas.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPJNt1eTVNY) Please enjoy!

It had only been three days, but Garrus was up and on his feet and ready for the meeting with their master thief. He had spent all of his days and nights in the med bay under doctor’s orders, so he had only gotten to see Shepard for dinner and her rounds through the ship.  It was increasingly painful to see her wander through the ship from the window of the med bay, not being able to be there with her, to touch her, to smell that scent of hers.  

 

So once day four arrived and he was given leave to roam about the ship, Garrus found Shepard in her room, pouring over her terminal, responding to messages.

 

She jumped when the door opened and turned quickly.  Seeing Garrus there, she softened, the skin around her eyes crinkling happily in that way of hers.  “Hey, who let you out of the repair shop?  I think I see some detailing they missed.”

 

“Hah-hah, Shepard,” Garrus grumbled good-naturedly, coming to stand at her side, brushing a hesitant talon through her hair.  It felt the same - thick and soft.  There was so much more of it now, spilling around her neck and to her shoulders.  “I see you’re letting your moss grow out. Bold choice.”

 

Shepard snorted and got to her feet.  They were so close that a deep breath would push them together.  “It wasn’t really my choice and I haven’t had a chance to get it trimmed since I woke up in a Cerberus lab with mechs trying to kill me… again.”  She watched him closely, her expression saying everything Garrus’ couldn’t.  That she was relieved to have him standing in front of her.  That she was relieved to have someone else in this shit-show with her.

 

And shit-show it was.

 

“Cerberus, Shepard?” he asked softly.

 

She glanced down at the floor for a second before remembering herself.  “I know.  It’s not… something I want to do.  It’s just…. They’re the only ones looking into these human abductions.  I tried reaching out to the Alliance, to Kaidan… no one is taking me seriously.”

 

“To be fair, Shepard, you  _ were  _ dead.  There were memorials all over the galaxy, your name was on the vids for almost an entire year.  I…  _ we,  _ all of us, mourned you, Shepard.  And now here you are. It’s… confusing.”

 

Shepard took a deep breath. “Are you confused?  About… me?”

 

Garrus shook his head, his undamaged mandible flaring out wide before clattering against his jaw.  “No, Shepard.”  He reached out to place a hand on her cheek.  She pressed into his hand, turning her face into it, kissing the glove covering his palm.  It was a simple gesture, one she always did before…. 

 

Before she died.

 

“Spirits,” he choked out, voice flanging.  “I’ve missed you, Jane.”

 

He thought she might have been close to crying but EDI interrupted them before Shepard could say whatever she was going to saying.  “Commander, we will be docking at Zakera Ward in thirty minutes.  Would you like Jeff to preparing a shuttle for you?”

 

Shepard cleared her throat, wiping at her eyes, and pulled back from Garrus slightly, his hand falling away from her cheek.  “Um… no. Thanks, EDI, I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

 

“Very well, Shepard.”

 

Shepard chuckled, her eyes sliding back up to Garrus’.  “I have a feeling we’re going to be getting interrupted more often on this ship.”

 

“Well, it _ is _ double the crew size,” Garrus nodded, taking a moment to look around her cabin as he spoke.  “And it’s Cerberus… they aren’t exactly known for being, well…  _ with it, _ I guess.  And…” he trailed off before chuckling, “is that a fish tank?”

 

“It is,” she laughed, unable to help herself.  “Jealous?”

 

“Oh, hardly, I’m just wondering how long you’d be able to keep fish alive.”

 

“Kelly offered to take care of them if I ever got them.” Shepard shrugged, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back, smirking at him.  

 

“Kelly is probably just trying to get in here and tie herself to the bed so she can participate in any, ah… cross-species liaisons that might occur.”

 

Shepard’s smile widened.  “Why Garrus, you and Mordin are the only non-humans aboard right now. And I’m pretty sure Mordin doesn’t like me that way.”

 

Garrus turned to meet her eyes, the one mandible wiggling.  “We all knew I was talking about me, Shepard.  I mean… look at me.  How could anyone resist?”

 

Shepard laughed, unfolding her arms and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her face into his tunic covered cowl.  Garrus felt the breath he’d been holding onto for over two years release out of his chest as he encircled her in his arms, brushing his mouth plates over the top of her head.

 

“You  _ are  _ the best looking turian I’ve ever met,” she said belatedly.

 

“Damn straight,” he replied, her words striking a chord deep in his chest.  “I’ve got to be doing something right if my girlfriend came back from the dead to find me.”

 

* * *

 

The thief had been simple enough to find - after a brief conversation with an advertisement, the girl, Kasumi Goto, was on board the ship and taking over the lounge as her bedroom.  Shepard smirked a bit as she walked through the docking bay, Garrus at her side.

 

“She seems… interesting,” Garrus murmured.

 

“She does,” Shepard agreed, sounding more positive than Garrus had.  “I think I like her.  You’ve gotta respect someone who can fuck your shit up so effortlessly while smiling about it.”

 

Garrus blinked, watching Shepard as she stepped through the scanner, the blue lights flickering over her skin.  The person Shepard had just described was herself.  He wasn’t sure she realized it, of course, because she somehow still didn’t believe she was half the badass she was.

 

Humble was one of the words the Alliance brass and news outlets had thrown around after she died.   _ She was always humble, always willing to help… came from humble beginnings and that modesty came through in all she did…. _

 

It made Garrus’ blood boil when he had heard anyone speak of Shepard’s beginnings.  No one knew what she’d gone through on Earth - an orphan, a street rat, a gang member, a criminal.  She had prison tattoos to prove it - two of the three required before the death penalty could be sought out.

 

“Sorry ma’am,” the C-Sec officer was saying sheepishly.  “I… I am sure there’s a mistake, but our records indicate you have been dead for two years.”

 

Shepard smiled faintly.  “Yeah.  I’ve been hearing that a lot.”

 

She was directed to go speak to a Commander Bailey.  It was a name Garrus hadn’t heard in a long time - and he certainly wasn’t a commander the last time Garrus saw him.  He was just another officer, like Garrus himself, when they worked together.

 

Garrus followed her through the checkpoint and realized that her prison tattoos wouldn’t be on her underarm anymore.  She was rebuilt - there was no way that her original skin had survived the atmosphere descent.  Her armor had caught fire and melted - how could her original skin ever have survived?

 

The thought made him sad, for some reason.  He was glad she didn’t have to live with the reminders of her old life anymore… but they were also a secret that he and Shepard had shared. 

 

Bailey was looking much older and harried than Garrus remembered. When they arrived at his office, Bailey went through the pleasantries with Shepard, not even seeming surprised that she was standing in front of him.

 

“I’m sorry,” Garrus interrupted, “did you know Shepard wasn’t dead?”

 

Bailey blinked and then grinned.  “Hey, Garrus, it’s been a while.  I heard you two had something going on, but I thought it was tabloid nonsense.”

 

“That wasn’t what he asked,” Shepard said, tone cool.  She was crossing her arms over her chest, leaning back on her left leg.  The stance reminded him of when she would speak with the council over vidcomm, her irritation held only slightly at bay, her eyes burning with anger.

 

Bailey cleared his throat before saying, “Well, we all got a memo from the Alliance, alerting us that you were back in play, or that there was a damn good unshackled AI stalking around.  Our scans you passed through are the best things out there - if they say you’re Shepard, you’re Shepard.”

 

Shepard didn’t look convinced.  “So, you’re going to fix this for me?”

 

“Already done,” Bailey replied easily.  “You’re back in the system now.  Granted, you’re not Alliance anymore, so you’re only here on citizen capacity.  Maybe go see the counselors if you’re wanting to get reinstated as a Spectre.”

 

Shepard nodded and reached out to shake the man’s hand.  “Thanks for your help.”

 

“Anything for you, Shepard,” Bailey said, gripping her hand tightly.  “You saved my life and a whole hell of a lot of lives here on the Citadel.  I, for one, will not forget it.  No matter whose colors you fly,” he added.

 

Shepard’s lips pulled down at the corners and she removed her hand from his.  “Someone needs to look into these abductions.”

 

“I couldn't agree more, Shepard,” Bailey said.  “And I’m glad it’s you.”   He turned his attention to Garrus, taking his hand for a shake, as well.  “Good to see you again, Vakarian.  Thinking about getting your old job back?  I can pull a few strings, put in a few good words…?”

 

“No, thank you,” Garrus said quickly.  “Working alongside my father left a stain on C-Sec for me.  Too much red tape.”

 

“Red tape holds the law together sometimes,” Bailey said, but then shrugged.  “I guess running with a Spectre is a good idea if you’re trying to avoid it, though.”

 

Garrus wasn’t sure why the conversation was making his fringe prickle with annoyance, but it was.  He pulled his hand away from Bailey and said, “See you later,” before looping his hand around Shepard’s waist, pulling her further into the ward.

 

* * *

 

Garrus had never been interesting in shopping, really - he wasn’t one for material possessions, the only exception being rifles and mods.  But shopping with Shepard was always a spectacle.

 

Shepard was very insistent that she wasn’t a ‘girly-girl.’  Even so, Garrus would catch her looking through shop windows, wide-eyed and lips parted, gazing at the newest dresses or casual wear.

 

She had an especially large weakness for sunglasses, which Garrus first became aware of on their road trip through America.

 

She had finally stepped into a shop in order to look at some sunglasses when the woman behind the counter gaped at her.  “Commander Shepard?”

 

Shepard’s head had snapped up and she looked over her shoulder with an expression of a small child with their hand in the felane jar.  “Um… yes?”

 

“I heard you were dead!” she breathed.

 

“Yeah,” Shepard began slowly, looking over at Garrus and then the shop owner.  “I was for a bit.  I’m back now.”

 

The woman laughed as if it was a joke.  When Shepard and Garrus did not, she looked between them, confused.  “Um… well, Commander, I was wondering if you maybe… maybe wanted to endorse the shop?”

 

“I’ve never been in here before,” Shepard admitted, “I just wanted to look at these sun-”

 

“You’d get a 30% discount on our entire stock,” she added.

 

Shepard’s eyes lit up and she hopped over to the counter.  “What do I speak into, this thing?”

 

After the discovery of endorsements, Shepard and Garrus spent close to six hours darting in and out of stores, offering endorsements and purchasing anything that struck their fancy.

 

“No,” Shepard groaned.

 

“Shepard, please,” Garrus said, nuzzling the back of her neck.

 

“Garrus, you don’t even want them.”

 

“I want  _ you  _ to have them.”

 

_ “I _ don’t even want them, though!”

 

“Sure you do.  Think how pretty they’ll look in your cabin.”

 

Shepard sighed, exasperated, and tapped the kiosk.  Two orders of Illium Skald Fish were to be delivered to the Normandy, care of Kelly Chambers.

 

“She’s going to hate you when she realizes she’s taking care of your fish and you’re not going to sleep with her,” Garrus confided.

 

Shepard rolled her eyes.  “Garrus, not everyone is trying to sleep with me.  I’m not you,” she added, winking at him as she darted to the next store.  Garrus chuckled and followed after her at a more reserved pace.

 

He did enjoy watching how her tight-fitted pants moved against her ass as she jogged away, though.  He didn’t think she realized how physically appealing she was.

 

But there were a lot of things she didn’t realize about herself yet.  Garrus was hopeful that he’d be the one who got to show her.

  
  


* * *

 

Korlus had been a mess.  The dusty, dead planet had been littered with human and krogan bodies - some still fresh and strewn about, others rotting in large piles around the path leading up to Okeer’s laboratory.  

 

The human with them, Jacob, didn’t seem overly moved one way or another.  Shepard, however, was squinting and shaking her head as they moved, low to the ground, dodging random bullets from catwalks above them.

 

Garrus knew she was remembering Virmire.  Remembering the countless Saren-controlled krogan they had to murder.  Garrus knew because he was remembering it, too.  

 

Shepard had lost a lot on Virmire.  She had almost lost Wrex in addition to everything else.  

Once they were back onboard, they had to face the fact that Okeer was dead and there was a krogan in a tank in the cargo bay.

 

“We can just vent the thing,” Jacob was saying, pacing around the room while Shepard stood with her hands over her chest.

 

“I think we should keep monitoring it,” Miranda murmured, running her index finger over her lower lip as she thought.  “It’s not ideal, but until we can figure out how it will react-”

 

“We can’t figure that out until we open the tank,” Shepard interrupted, looking between the other humans.  “I’m going to.”

 

“Right now?” Miranda asked, incredulous.  “Shepard, I don’t mean to be argumentative, but-”

 

“We’re in the middle of space,” Jacob interjected.  “At least wait until we’re docked somewhere-”

 

“So if he gets loose he can kill others?” Miranda shot back.

 

“Better than breaking open the hull and killing all of us,” Jacob replied cooly.

 

Shepard shook her head.  “This is ridiculous.  One krogan isn’t going to rip through the hull of the ship.  I’m going to go in with a gun and if he gets rowdy, I can put him down.  No one else,” she added when she saw Miranda reaching for her pistol.  “Just me.  Too many people might spook him.”

 

“Spook him,” Jacob muttered.  “Spook a 400-pound slab of killing power.”

 

Shepard shrugged.  “Anyone can get spooked, Jacob.  You just need to know how.”  She slid her pistol out of her holster and left the meeting room, heading down to the third deck.

 

* * *

 

“She’s lost her god’amn mind,” Zaeed was saying when Garrus passed by.  “I told ‘er not to mess with it, but did she listen?”

 

“Who?” Garrus asked, sick of playing the pronoun game with all of the humans on board the ship. 

 

“Your batty girlfriend!” he exclaimed, looking perturbed.  “She’s in there, fucking ‘round with that… that  _ krogan  _ mishap.”

 

Around that time was when they heard Shepard yelp and something loud smash against the wall.  Garrus had his rifle out in a moment, wishing he had a smaller gun for once, and forced the door open.

 

Or tried to.

 

“Apologies, Garrus,” EDI intoned.  “Commander Shepard is speaking with our krogan guest and asked that no one be allowed in.”

 

“Open the goddamn door,” Garrus growled, talons scratching across the metal.

 

“I am afraid I cannot do that.  Shepard has given me explicit orders to-”

 

The door slid open and Shepard was standing there, hair a mussed mess, scratches on the back of her arms.  “Oh,” she said, startled.  “Hey.”

 

“What happened?” Garrus asked, pressing a hand to her cheek.  “We heard you shout.”

 

Shepard grinned a bit.  “Everything’s fine, Grunt just had to make sure I was a worthy captain.”

 

“Battle master,” a voice rumbled from behind her.

 

Garrus leaned around Shepard to take in the massive krogan standing inside, watching them with icy eyes.

 

“Right, battle master,” Shepard corrected.  She patted Garrus’ arm.  “He’s a good kid, I think he kind of likes me.”

 

“You didn’t say anything about a turian,” the krogan, Grunt, continued.  He ground his teeth together and chuckled.  “The tank memories tell me their fringe tastes good raw with some butter.”

 

“Oookay,” Shepard said quickly, grabbing Garrus’ arm and tugging him away.  “Grunt, we don’t eat our crew, okay?  Or people. Just - don’t eat people. Be good, I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

Grunt only laughed, a long, low rumble.

 

“This is not going to end well, Shepard,” Garrus said, glancing back at the cargo bay door.  “I think he just thought about eating me.”

 

“He’s just trying to tease you,” she said, only sounding like she half believed her words.  “I think he’s kind of cute.”

 

“He’s not your child, Shepard,” Garrus reminded her.

 

“I know,” she said quickly before smirking.  “I mean… if he was going to be anyone’s kid, it would kind of fall to me.  And I guess Okeer, but he’s dead now.”

 

Garrus tried not to think about Okeer and Shepard having sex as they slid into the elevator, but the mental image was there and it was painful.  Garrus grumbled against it, making Shepard look at him peculiarly.  “You okay?”

 

“I think I get why people have such a tough time imagining us having sex,” was all he said.

 

Shepard made a face.  “People have a tough time imaging us having sex?”  And then, “Wait, who is imagining us having sex?”

 

“I don’t know,” Garrus sighed.  “Extranet people.”

 

Shepard seemed to be thinking about that for a moment.  Once the elevator made it to her cabin, they stepped out and Shepard quipped, “Like, is this a thing?  People wanting to see us have sex?”

 

“I don’t really know, Shep-”

 

“Because if there’s money in it,” she continued, “why not?  I mean… my ass is fantastic and you… oh boy, you’re just perfect all around.”

 

“Shepard-”

 

“It’s not like it would be embarrassing or anything.  And if the pay is good-”

 

_ “Jane,” _ Garrus purred, pulling her into him, mouth descending to press into her lips. “Stop talking. We’re not making a sex vid.  Unless it’s just for us.  Okay?”

 

She grinned against his face plates.  “Fine.  Want to get on that?”

 

“Now?” he asked, pulling back to look at her perfect green eyes.

 

She shrugged.  “Why not?  If you’re game, I’m game.”

 

Garrus picked her up in his arms and carried her into her cabin while Shepard giggled against his neck.


	3. Don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
> 
>  **Chapter Warning:** Shit's about to get rough, emotional, and messy. Just gotta give the heads up now.
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["I Don't Think So," by Ben Phipps.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQ2i--6TQFg) Please enjoy!

It had been over a month since Garrus arrived on the SR-2.  It had been a month of excitement.  He was reunited with the woman he had thought he’d lost forever. He was back in the field, making split-second decisions, protecting those he served with, putting their lives above his.

 

It was everything he loved about serving under Shepard.  The freedom he had, the room to flourish and grow and make decisions on his own.  It was everything he’d ever wanted in life - everything his father reprimanded him for.

 

But even though he was happier than he had been in two years… something was off.

 

He and Shepard hadn’t spoken about what had happened the day she died.  They hadn’t discussed the two years between the last time they saw one another in the Citadel docking bay and the crumbling office park Archangel had been stranded in.

 

Garrus sat on her couch, waiting for her to come back up from her rounds.  He had a datapad in front of him - a datapad with the names of his men on it.   _Erash, Monteague, Mierin, Grundan Krul, Melenis, Ripper, Sensat, Vortash, Butler, Weaver, Sidonis._ They had all been scratched out, all except for the last one.

 

The door to Shepard’s cabin opened and she entered, carrying two bottles of liquor and sashaying her way over to him.  “Gardner got us some drinks as a thank you for all of the ingredients we picked up.  Isn’t that sweet?”

 

She handed him one of the bottles and took the other for herself, using her teeth to pull the cork out.  She only then noticed the datapad and Garrus’ silence.  The cork still in the side of her mouth she slurred, “What’s that?”

 

Garrus cleared his throat, watching her as she grabbed the cork and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of him.  She hadn’t brought glasses up, so she was taking a long swig directly from the bottle.  It reminded Garrus of their night in Branson, drinking from wine bottles and awkwardly grappling with their growing feelings for one another.

 

“I, uh… I wanted to talk about something with you,” he murmured finally, glancing down at the list of his team.  His crew. His dead comrades.  “A lot of somethings.”

 

Shepard frowned at his tone, setting the wine bottle down on the coffee table. She sat down beside him, leaning back, her hands settling like birds on her stomach.  “What’s up?”

 

Garrus opened his mouth and closed it again.  He wasn’t sure how to say all of the things he wanted to say - what the best way to ramp up to them was.  He just knew he needed to say something - needed her to hear him, really hear him. He needed her to know what had happened to him since she was killed.

 

And he needed her to tell him what happened two years ago.  He needed her to talk about something she had refused to talk about with anyone.  

 

“Two years ago-” he began haltingly.

 

“Garrus,” she sighed, head falling onto the couch back, her hair spilling like blood.  “I really can’t-”

 

“You said that you couldn’t wait to see me.  That you’d come back for me,” he powered through.  “What did you mean by that?”

 

Shepard sighed and pulled her head back up to look at him.  “Garrus that was a long time ago-”

 

“But not really, not for you,” he interrupted.  “You told me it was all like yesterday. Shepard, I need-”

 

“I can’t do this right now, Garrus,” she snapped, forehead creasing as she furrowed her brows.  “I need this to not be a conversation we have, okay?  Maybe later, maybe….  I just can’t talk about this right now.  Not what happened to me, not how it affected you.  I died, okay?  I don’t want to think about it.”

 

Garrus stared at her, baffled by the outburst.  Baffled by her inability to talk to him about anything.  When she would wake him up in the middle of the night, thrashing and screaming in her sleep, he would hold her and not ask questions.  The next morning it would be like nothing happened like Shepard hadn’t been gibbering unintelligibly and sobbing uncontrollably.

 

He needed to talk to her, really talk to her, about what happened over the past two years.  And he knew she needed that, as well.  But she was stubborn; she was stuck in her beliefs that, if she smiled wide enough and laughed in all of the right places, she was fine.

 

“Shepard, this isn’t healthy,” he said, batting her hand away from the wine bottle she was reaching for.  “You can’t keep hiding from what happened.”

 

“Or else?” she asked, her tone dark as she stared at him.

 

There was malice in her gaze.  It cut Garrus to the core seeing that, hearing her icy words.  

 

He steeled himself against the anger biting at the back of his throat, the urge to grab her by the shoulders, by the neck, force her to hear him.  The growl was grumbling in his chest, hard and angry, but he pushed it down.

 

Shepard wasn’t a turian. Shepard wasn’t made for such casual violence.  His unbuffed talons could sever an artery with one wrong twitch.

 

He stood and grabbed the dextro-bottle she’d brought to him.  He stepped over her legs, half expecting her to grab his hand as he passed, to ask him to stay.  

 

But she didn’t.  

 

Garrus went to the door without another word, his insides cold.  She had cut him deeply.  How had it been so easy for her to do?  

 

And, more importantly, how had he not seen it coming?

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t seen Shepard much on the three-day journey to the turian prison ship, Purgatory.  In fact, the only time he had seen her was during a chance encounter in the med bay.

 

“Karin, do you think you could check out my shoul-” she had said as she walked in, rubbing the left shoulder with her right hand, wincing as she did so.

 

When she looked up, she found Garrus sitting on one of the beds, Chakwas inspecting his healing mandible.  Garrus and Shepard locked eyes and Shepard was the first one to look away.  “Never mind,” she said flippantly, “I have to make the rounds. I’ll come back in an hour or so.”

 

It stung, but Garrus wasn’t sure what he expected.  It was for the better, anyway - she was suffering from her own demons and she was not interested in his help.  He couldn’t keep nagging her, couldn’t keep getting pushed away.

 

He was too old for it, he had to keep reminding himself every night when he knew she could be thrashing around in the throes of nightmares.  Every time he saw her in the mess, surrounded by young Cerberus ensigns, he had to check the urge to brush her hair out of her face or caress a talon across her forearm.

 

He had taken to avoiding her.  And she had taken to avoiding him.

 

“You two are idiots.”

 

Garrus turned around from the bar and stared at the tiny thief.  Her hood was off and her hair spilled like liquid night around her shoulders in pin-straight lines.

 

“What?” he snapped.

 

“You and Shep,” she sighed as if it was obvious. “Who else would I be talking about? Genji and Sadie?”

 

“Who-”

 

 _“I don’t know_ who Genji and Sadie are, that’s my point.  I’m talking about you and Shepard.”

 

Garrus wasn’t sure what to say - or even if there was something to say.  Kasumi Goto evidently had the conversation planned out for the both of them… somehow.

 

“You two need to just make up, because seriously?  Watching you two dart around each other like wounded birds is painful and depressing.”  She sighed.  “And you keep crashing into my bedroom at 2 am to drink.”

 

Garrus almost told Kasumi that it was because of Shepard’s nightmares.  Garrus had begun waking up earlier than he should have, worrying about her in her cabin by herself, sobbing into empty sheets.  But Garrus kept his mouth shut and finished his drink.

 

“Sorry to keep you up,” he mumbled, pushing his glass away and standing.

 

“Oh my _God,_ you people are so morose,” she whined.  “Normally I’m all for some angst, but hell. You two finally have each other back, what’s with the long faces?  Or… _longer_ faces.”

 

Garrus paused in the doorway before turning back to her.  “We don’t know how to talk to each other anymore,” he finally said.  “I’ve changed.  She can’t see it.  She won’t let me explain it.  We just….”  He sighed and shrugged.  “I just can’t do this dance anymore.”

 

Kasumi’s face had softened, her dark eyes regarding him with something like affection.  “I’m sorry, big guy.  I know that dance. It’s not an easy one.  Sometimes the dice are loaded from the start, you know?”

 

“I do,” he said before adding, “Don’t… don’t tell her I said anything.  I know you two are getting closer and I… I just don’t want her to think I’m telling the ship our business.”

 

“Not in here, you’re not,” Kasumi said with a smile.  “I’ve removed all of the Cerberus vidcams.  If you ever need to vent off the record, my room is always open.”

 

Garrus chuckled.  “Thanks, Goto.”

 

“You got it, Vakarian.  Now get out of here, this cherubic face doesn’t run on angst, it runs on sleep.”

 

Garrus left the lounge, feeling a little better.  At least Kasumi understood.  At least someone was willing to hear his side of things.

 

* * *

 

Garrus had slept through most of the morning.  It was not common for turians to sleep for more than four hours in a day, and never to sleep during the day.  Complex internal clocks made it nearly impossible to break the cycles.

 

Even so, Garrus did not awake until the Purgatory mission was done and there was a flurry of angry shouting coming from the mess.

 

Garrus was up, slipping his civilian tunic on as he left the main battery.  The mess had been cleared out - probably because there was a biotic holding a table above her head and threatening to launch it at Miranda.

 

“Shepard!” Garrus shouted over the commotion of obscenities and yelling.

 

Shepard, on the other side of the two-biotic-warzone, offered him a sympathetic look. She had been standing relatively quietly, arms crossed as if she was curious as to what might happen if she let them at one another.  

 

Garrus’ arrival must have snapped her out of it because she unfurled her arms and started clapping loudly.  “Okay, you all had your pissing match, drop the table!  Inside voices!”

 

The new arrival, a scantily clad woman with more tattoos than clothes, groaned and floated the table back to its point of origin.  “Shepard, you told me you don’t work for these assholes.”

 

“I don’t work for these assholes,” Shepard confirmed, making Miranda scoff and cross her arms.  “I am… a consultant, I guess. They’re paying me a lot to get a team together for a really dangerous mission.”

 

“I’m not a toddler, I don’t need sugar coating,” the woman snapped.  “Get on with it.”

 

“Okay.  Jack, we think the reapers are planning another attack on us and they’re using the collectors to harvest human colonies.  Our plan is to stage a suicide mission to take out the Collectors or die trying.”

 

Jack looked between Shepard, Miranda, and Garrus before chuckling.  “Jesus, you really are a girl scout.  Do you even know what you could do with a ship like this?”

 

“Jack, focus,” Shepard bade.

 

“You could be, like… a pirate queen,” Jack breathed.  Miranda rolled her eyes.  Shepard sighed.

 

“Let’s talk about that later.  For now, we have this mission.”

 

Jack shrugged, rubbing her neck.  “Get me those files you promised me and I’ll do whatever shit you need me to do.  If I get to kill people, awesome.  If I get to kill collectors, even fucking better.”

 

“Perfect,” Shepard said, sounding like she really meant it.  She made a sweeping motion between Miranda and Jack.  “You two good?  No more trying to wipe the floor with each other, right?”

 

Miranda stared at Jack balefully.  “I can behave if she can.”

 

“Good,” Shepard said quickly, ending the possibility of Jack starting to yell again.  “Miranda, get Jack access to whatever she needs and find her a nice place to sleep.”

 

“Thanks, Shepard,” Jack said as she passed by the woman, punching her shoulder.  Shepard winced but waited for the pair to leave the mess before she rubbed the shoulder.  It was the one she’d been favoring since Garrus had been reunited with her.

 

“Hey,” Garrus began softly.  “Your shoulder still acting up?”

 

“Yeah,” she sighed, offering him a hesitant smile.  “It’s been a pain since I… came back,” she finished lamely.  “Chakwas says she can’t see anything and Miranda thinks it’s an implant acting up but I don’t really want her digging into my shoulder unless she’s already under the hood for something.”

 

She tried to laugh at the terminology but it sounded hollow. “ Um… do you… do you want to come up?  Have a drink or something?” she asked awkwardly.

 

Garrus cleared his throat.  “Shepard, I think we should just… be friends right now.”

 

Shepard blinked at him and the look in her eyes was like a kicked pyjak.

 

“Look, we both went through some stuff,” he said, trying hard to find the right combinations of words to make the conversation turn out okay.  “And you can’t talk about it, I get it, I’m not going to push anymore.”

 

“Then what’s the issue?” she asked, voice soft.

 

Garrus looked a the deck, at her boots, at the way her left shoelace was coming undone.  And then he looked into her green eyes.  “That is the issue, Shepard.  We need two different things.  I need to talk about what happened, what’s happened since, and you… you need space.  So this is me, giving you space.”

 

Her mask was back - that eerily vacant stare she had when she was in an uncomfortable situation.  It was her Commander Shepard facade - the face she used when she sent someone to their death and when she faced uncomfortable truths or choices.  Jane Shepard, the person, would hide from those situations.  That was why the facade was needed.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, even though he wasn’t sorry for what he was doing. He was sorry he had to do it in the first place.

 

Shepard forced a smile and nodded.  “Thanks for letting me know.  I, um… yeah. I get it.”  She turned to walk to the elevator but paused to look back.  “Goodnight, Vakarian.”

 

“Goodnight, Shepard,” he breathed, feeling his heart break a little more. He had expected a fight, expected harsh words, expected anger.  But that was not the Shepard he had found in front of him.  He had only found a hollow shell.

 

And then she was around the other side of the divider.  But instead of getting into the elevator, he heard her steps take her toward the lounge.

 

Garrus retreated to the Main Battery.  He didn’t know if Shepard needed Kasumi’s shoulder to cry on or to yell into, but he knew he didn't want to hear it either way.

 

* * *

 

Horizon was burning.  There were fires raging through the grasslands and, in spite of the chaos, no one was trying to put the fires out; there was no one moving at all.  

 

The Normandy had slid in and out quickly, dropping the ground team and then getting off of the planet just as swiftly in an attempt to avoid collector detection.  Garrus found himself pacing restlessly in the shuttle bay, ready to assist the moment the extraction was called for.  

 

He hated that he hadn’t been part of the mission. He hated that Shepard had chosen Kasumi and Grunt to go with her, two people who Garrus still wasn’t sure that he trusted.  Above everything, he hated that this thing, this thing going on between them, was shelving him on all of the missions.

 

“Garrus, hey, we’re descending now.  Looks like the collectors fled,” Joker informed him over the comm

 

“How are they?” he asked.   _How is she?_ is what he meant.  

 

“Sounds like some minor wounds, cuts, and bruises.  More of an emotional scar I would say.”

 

Garrus tried not to be too relieved when the cargo ramp lowered and Grunt, Kasumi, and Shepard all walked up it without any sign of trauma.

 

Except that, when Shepard took her helmet off, her eyes were swimming in tears.

 

“Hey,” he began, reaching out to touch her arm.

 

She pulled away but not harshly.  “I’m fine.  It’s fine.  We just, um… we lost a lot of people.”  She slid out of her hard suit and boots, the thin skinsuit caressing her curves as she moved.  “It’s fine,” she repeated, somehow sounding less sure than before.

 

Shepard jogged toward the elevator, leaving Garrus standing in the locker bay with Grunt and Kasumi.

 

“I didn’t like that guy,” Grunt said suddenly.

 

“What guy?” Garrus asked.

 

Kasumi cleared her throat, hood obscuring her face from view.  “Some Alliance guy.  He evidently knew Shep from back when.”

 

Garrus felt his blood run cold.  “Kaidan?”  It couldn’t be Kaidan.  What were the chances?  The one person who could wound her the most, aside from Garrus, was Kaidan.

 

“That’s it,” Kasumi sighed.  “Kaidan.”  She said the name like a curse.

 

Grunt made a disgusted noise.  “He tried to grab Shepard’s arm and I told him I’d eat his hand for a snack.”

 

Kasumi chuckled.  “You did good, Grunt.  Way to look out for your mom.”

 

Grunt made a strange noise between a growl and a chuckle and then shuffled his way up to the elevator.

 

“Shepard probably told you-”

 

“Not here,” Kasumi interrupted, glancing up at the tall ceilings.  “I think Miranda’s replaced some of the less favorable Cerberus equipment in here.  My room’s better.”  She waved for him to follow her, which he did hesitantly.

 


	4. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything! 
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["The Animals Were Gone," by Damien Rice.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Zm1rF55IvA) Please enjoy!

Kasumi cleared her throat as she took off her hood and shook out her hair.  “Okay, look, this is not my business really, but I’m also really bad at  _ not  _ being nosy.  You and Shepard are so ridiculously in love with one another, it’s honestly sickening.  And you have this whole lovelorn thing going on, which is really fun in romance novels, but it’s pretty painful here in the real world.”

Garrus watched her, waiting, but when she didn’t say anything so Garrus asked, “What did Kaidan say to her?”

“Why, are you gonna go find him and beat him up for hurting your ex-girlfriend’s feelings?”

Garrus’s breath got lodged in his throat.   _ Ex-girlfriend. _  It sounded so final.  All he had said was friends, and she was saying ex-girlfriend?

Kasumi mistook his reaction and huffed.  “I know, I know, _you didn’t want to do this to her, you didn’t know he would be there, you didn’t know she needed protection…_ blah blah blah.  Look, she was fine.  She didn’t take his shit and she stood up to him just fine.  Yes, he said some shit she didn’t like and yes, she was a little misty when she got in here, but really, Garrus… you need to stop treating her like she’d glass.”

“Treating her like she’s glass?” he repeated before chuckling humorlessly.  “Kasumi, I don’t know what she’s told you.  I don’t even care what she’s told you.  I’m not trying to coddle her, I am trying to get her to talk to me, to talk about all of this bullshit going on around her, going on in her head.  I want to be there for her, not take care of her.  And if that’s how she sees me….”  He shook his head, undamaged mandible clicking against his faceplate.  “If that’s how she sees me, then it’s better it ended.”

Kasumi looked uncomfortable.  “I don’t know what I’m talking about, really.  Shep… she just comes in here and drinks a lot, you know?  I’m not exactly a shining model of sobriety, but she’s… she is hitting the sauce hard.  She doesn’t talk about you, it’s just… I can see how bad she’s hurting.  She misses you.  And maybe hates you a little,” she added with a shrug.  “But who doesn’t hate the people they love, even just a little bit?”

“I don’t hate her,” he said simply before leaving the lounge.

 

* * *

 

Garrus was left out on another mission - the fourth in a row.  There was an asari Justicar in the Starboard Observation Deck and the ground team - Shepard, Miranda, and Grunt - were out looking for an assassin.  

Garrus hadn’t been interested in the Justicar’s mission, anyway - he’d offered to sit that one out.  But a firefight through a huge tower in the middle of Illium?  Racing ahead to try to find the assassin before he - or she - could disappear into the night?

Garrus’ blood had been pumping for that mission.  For the chance to test himself, to push himself to the limits against the mercs in Dantius Towers.

But he had been left, again, and being stuck on the ship was getting insufferable.  “Joker, I’m heading out,” he told the pilot and he stepped out of the airlock.  He almost told Joker not to leave without him, but would that have been so bad?

He knew he was just bitter, so he did his best to keep it under wraps and enjoy the Illium marketplace.  

He was contemplating a new rifle at one of the shops when a sweet-faced asari grabbed his elbow and murmured, “Liara T’Soni would like to speak to you if you’re free?”

Garrus glanced down at the terminal and sighed.  “Sure.  Lead the way.”

He was led through the market and up a flight of stairs overlooking the skyline.  The office was chic and comfortable and surrounded by flowering plants.  Liara stood at the large table near the bay of windows, smiling at him.  “Garrus,” she greeted softly, voice lilting in that pleasant way of hers.  “Nyxeris, you can go.”

The assistant bobbed her head and left the room, the door sliding closed behind her.

“Coming up in the world, T’Soni,” he teased her.  “Who did you have to kill for this office?”

“I don’t give out trade secrets,” she replied, walking over and wrapping her arms around him.  “I’m so glad you came.  I asked Shepard to tell you to visit, but she seemed… withholding.”

Garrus nodded but said nothing.  He had already gossiped with Kasumi more than he should have.  He didn’t need to add Liara to the list.  

“Anyway,” she breathed, sitting down in one of the two chairs in front of her desk and motioning for him to sit in the other.  “I was actually wondering if you had need of any information.”

“Information?” he repeated, sinking into the chair, confused.

Liara’s eyes fluttered around the room and pursed her lips.  “About a turian from Omega who you might be looking for.”

Garrus’ eyes widened.  “Sid-”

Liara put a finger to her lips.  “Not here.  I’m coming by the ship for dinner tonight.  Can we speak then?”

“Of course,” Garrus said quickly.

“Good,” she smiled softly.  “I might need your help, too, if you are willing.  I don’t mean to make this sound like a barter, it is not.  You have my information if you want it, no strings.  But if you would be willing-”

“Anything in my power to help with, Liara,” he interrupted.  “I will.”

She looked pleased and reached out to place her hand on his knee.  “Thank you, Garrus.  I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, T’Soni.  I’ll see you around dinnertime.”

She walked him out, watching him leave before turning to Nyxeris.  “Hold all of my calls until tomorrow morning.  I have some work I need to do.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

The mood in Shepard’s cabin was pleasant if a bit strained.  Liara, to her credit, acted as if everything was normal while she and Shepard ate some kind of asari dish involving fish and a sauce that smelled like wildfires.  Garrus was glad for his turian skewers - having dextro-food stocked was all it took to make him feel more at home.  The Cerberus-run SR-2 was, surprisingly, more dextro-friendly than the SR-1 had been. 

“Oh, Garrus,” Liara said suddenly during a lull in the conversation.  “About Sidonis.”

Garrus coughed on a piece of skewer meat and shook his head quickly.  “Not here,” he wheezed.

Shepard looked torn between trying to help him get the meat out of his throat and figuring out who Sidonis was.  She ended up doing both, sliding onto the couch arm beside him and smacking her hand on his back while asking Liara, “Who’s Sidonis?”

Liara looked surprised, wide eyes glancing between the both of them.  “Shepard… Sidonis.  The one who killed Garrus’-”

“Liara, she doesn’t know about it,” Garrus grumbled, finally dislodging the meat and drinking half of his glass of wine down to burn away the feeling of almost choking.

Liara looked affronted.  “Why doesn’t she know?  Why didn’t you-”  the realization crossed over her face and she whispered, “Oh.”

“Who is Sidonis?” Shepard repeated, this time meeting Garrus’ gaze with her own.  “Who did he kill, Garrus?”

Garrus sighed.  “We ran together in a vigilante group.  He… killed our crew.”

Liara narrowed her eyes at him, trying to compel him to tell the whole truth.  But he didn’t and she didn’t press.

“Garrus, I’m sorry,” Shepard whispered, brows furrowing.  Her hand was still on his back and she rubbed her hand across him gently, soothingly.

Garrus couldn’t shake the mental image of her running her fingers down his back while she arched below him, panting, groaning, skin shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat.  He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything else, but the memory of her red hair fanning out on white sheets was too strong.

“-according to my findings, Fade is hiding out in the warehouse district in the lower parts of Zakera Ward,” Liara was saying, her voice the only even thing in the room.  “So next time you are there, you can have a chat with him… see if he’ll give up Sidonis’ location.”

“Oh, he’ll give it up,” Garrus grumbled.

Shepard took her hand off of his back and Garrus felt like he could breathe again.  She loitered on his side of the couch, though, balancing on the arm, her leg pressing into his thigh.  “Thanks for this, Liara,” Shepard murmured.  “And for your help with Samara and Thane.”

Liara beamed.  “I am always happy to help.  Were you successful in retrieving them?”

“Yes,” Shepard murmured, her smile turning a little more mischievous.  “Samara is a little overwhelming, but Thane… I think Thane is going to be excellent for the team.”

Garrus felt his temper flare that her tone - she seemed giddy.  Garrus had tried to ignore how close Shepard had lingered to Thane as she showed him around the ship just hours ago.  Garrus had tried to ignore how Thane’s voice was gentle and soft, how he touched Shepard’s elbow each time he had a question.

Liara seemed to sense where the conversation was going and stopped it immediately.  “That’s good.  I was wondering if now would be a good time to discuss the… ah… the help I needed for the both of you.”

“Sure,” Shepard said, leaning forward, eyebrows piqued in interest.  “What can we do for you?”

Liara took a deep breath and then murmured, “I need you to help me find and kill the Shadow Broker.”

 

* * *

 

Shepard was bleeding from a gash on her forehead.  She was pretty sure there was a thick shard of glass embedded in her thigh, right at the seam between her leg and hip, but she didn’t care.  While Liara took care of the Broker terminals, Shepard stumbled over to where Garrus was on the ground, not moving.

“Garrus,” she said, collapsing beside him and patting his unbandaged mandible.  “Garrus, babe, you’ve gotta wake up,” she whispered, patting his face a little harder.  “Garrus, I don’t know how to check for a pulse on your birds, you gotta… you gotta help me,” she whimpered.

She put a hand in front of his mouth and nose, trying to feel his breath.  She thought there might have been a tickle there, but she was so exhausted she couldn’t trust herself.  

“Liara!” she shouted.  “Liara, I don’t know what to do!”

Liara wasn’t answering, she was still messing around with the terminals.  So Shepard loaded a medi-gel in her omni-tool and hacked into Garrus’ suit’s interface, forcing the medi-gel into it.  “Come on you fucking thing,” she whispered harshly, waiting for his suit to respond to her commands. _  “Come on!” _

By the time Garrus finally opened his eyes, Shepard was slumped on his chest, her bleary eyes blinking slowly as she watched his face.

“Hey, beautiful,” he groaned, reaching out to run a talon over her cheek.  

Shepard snorted and then giggled, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around him as much as she could.  “You asshole,” she grumbled.  “I thought you were dead.”

“Just… trying to see what you’d do if I laid still enough,” he groaned.

Shepard snorted again and tried to get off of him but slipped in the slick blood that had fallen from her head onto his armor.  She fell back onto his chest piece with a thud and Garrus wheezed past the pain.  “Spirits, Shepard, I think you broke my back.”

“I think that desk broke your back,” Shepard replied, going limp on top of him.  “I think I might have just crushed some ribs.”

“Much better,” he wheezed.

 

* * *

 

Garrus did not have a broken back, in fact, but three of his ribs had broken at some point during the fray.  Garrus liked the claim it was when Shepard flopped on top of him in a princess tantrum.  Shepard was pleased to report that it was when Garrus somehow didn’t see a massive desk being flung at him by a giant yahg.

In the three days it took Garrus to heal, he was able to track down more information on Fade’s operation of disappearing criminals.  He had become obsessed with following message boards and coded messages between Fade and his clients.

On the fourth day, Garrus cornered Shepard in the mess.  She was looking harried and possibly scared.  “Shepard-”

“Garrus, suit up, you’re with me and Miranda,” she said as she graced past. Garrus grabbed her arm and yanked her back, making her yelp.  “Garrus-”

“We need to go to the Citadel,” he said quickly, not letting her interrupt him.  “I need to get this guy before Fade packs up and moves off of the Citadel.”

“Garrus-”

“He’s planning a move, Shepard, and I need to get to him before that!”

“Garrus,” she murmured, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek.  Her emerald eyes met his and held them.  “I hear you. I do.  Right now, we need to stay Illium. Miranda’s sister is in danger and we’re right already here.  We need to do this and then we’ll go straight to the Citadel, I promise.”

“Shepard, you don’t understand-”

Her hand curled around his faceplate and her thumb ran across his jaw, under his mandible.  “Garrus, please.  Listen to me.  We’re going to get Fade, you and me.  And then we’re going to get Sidonis.  You and me.  Okay?”

Garrus felt the fear of losing the lead clog his throat but he looked at Shepard and reminded himself why he trusted her.  Because she could never lie to him.  Even if he wasn’t her lover, he was her friend and she was always good to her friends.

“Okay,” he whispered, pressing his face into her hand, relishing in feeling her again.

Her smile was gentle as she murmured, “Thank you, Garrus.  For trusting me.  Now go get suited up - unless you want to sit this one out?  Thane mentioned he-”

“I’ll be ready in five,” Garrus interrupted.  He checked to urge to kiss her, to feel her lips and smell the vanilla in her hair, on her skin.  He swallowed past the urge and made his way to the elevator.

 

* * *

 

Thane wasn’t a bad person, and that was what annoyed Garrus the most.  He wanted to dislike the drell for no other reason than Shepard liked him and he seemed to like her.  They talked often, tones soft and mellow while sipping tea together or reading together.

It made Garrus’ chest hurt when he found them sitting in the mess together. He knew it shouldn’t, he knew it was stupid.  But Garrus had never been very good at controlling his emotions.  It was something his father reminded him about every time they spoke.

But now he was sitting with Thane at one of the mess tables and Thane was regarding him with his liquid black eyes.

“You seem troubled.”

Garrus bit down on his tongue to keep the shortness out of his tone.  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Thane spread his fingers out as if showing he meant no harm.  “I have noticed… a tension between you and Jane.”

“First name basis, huh?”

Thane blinked, emotionless.  “She has said nothing to me about it, but I can see it when you two are together.  Or apart.”

“Sorry, I thought Chambers was the shrink, not you,” Garrus muttered.

Thane cleared his throat and sipped his tea.  “She loves you, I believe.  Kasumi seems to think so, as well.”

Garrus looked up at the drell, narrowing his eyes.  “What?”

“Sometimes we need time apart,” he murmured, continuing as if Garrus had said nothing.  “My wife and I… we had times when we could not be in the same room.  Poor communication, lies, half-truths.”

Garrus felt his hackles lower.  “Your wife?”

“She is dead now.  We never managed to make things work.  She….” he trailed off for a moment before muttering, rapid-fire words that were hard to make out.   _ “Blood on the carpet, soaking in, the color of mud on moss.  Kolyat hiding in the backyard, bushes trembling, quivering with his sobs. Irikah gone, eyes cloudy, skin no longer a sunset, no longer lustrous.” _

He shook his head, breaking from the reverie, and murmured, “I apologize.  It’s an… unfortunate memory to relive.”

Garrus realized in that moment that he couldn’t keep pretending to hate Thane.  Thane wasn’t a bad person.  In fact, he seemed like a better person than most.

“I’m sorry.  About your loss.”

Thane nodded faintly.  “And I, yours.  At least you still have a chance.  Give her time and… talk.  That was my problem, my burden.  I never wanted to talk about things close to my heart, close to my fears.”

“What if I’m not the one who has that problem?” Garrus asked.

Thane was silent for a moment before nodding.  “Jane is very secretive.  Perhaps she isn’t sure if she can trust you.  Or if she can trust herself.”

The words rattled through Garrus’ head the rest of the night.   _ Perhaps she isn’t sure if she can trust herself. _

Garrus went to the Main Battery and laid down on his cot.  As Garrus was falling asleep, he remembered Shepard’s green eyes when they were first reunited.

_ “Is it really you?” _

How she blinked and how her smile was less of a smile and more of a grimace.

_ “I’ve been asking myself that since I woke up.” _


	5. Tear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is a long-time favorite of mine - ["Tear," by The Smashing Pumpkins.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=av_2DlLeaC0) Please enjoy!

The Citadel looked different to Garrus as he wandered it with Shepard.  It wasn’t just shopping in Zakera this time around.  It wasn’t holding her hand, caressing her hair, delighting in the surprised looks they got from passersby.

Garrus was never sure if the looks were because it was Commander Jane Shepard or because such a gorgeous woman somehow ended up with an average-looking turian.  

But this time around, Shepard walked in front of him, her hips swaying in that way of hers, that way that commanded a room.  Grunt trailed behind him, taking in all of the sights like a child in a new city.  

Which, Garrus realized belated, was exactly what Grunt was.  A child in a new city.

“Noodles?” Grunt asked suddenly.

Shepard turned to look at him, her face softening into a smile.  “You want some noodles, Grunt?”  At his enthusiastic nod, she looped an arm around his back, pulling him into her.  Or, more accurately, pulling herself into him.  “We’ll get you some noodles on the way back, okay?”

Grunt grunted but didn’t make a fuss about it.  

The two had gotten closer since Grunt nearly smashed her through a wall.  The relationship was an odd one - very mother-son in spite of Grunt being a fully-grown krogan.  But Shepard had never been good at doing the expected.

“Tearing traitors apart works up an appetite,” Grunt said, sounding quite satisfied the longer he thought about their plans for the day.

“That’s my little killer,” Shepard cooed, putting her head on his massive shoulder.  Grunt laughed like the braying of a horse Garrus had seen while in Kentucky with Shepard.

The thought of Grunt being related to a horse made Garrus temporarily forget that he was on his way to kill the man who betrayed him.  Betrayed his crew.

 

* * *

 

“Shepard?” Harkin sputtered.  “Holy shit, it’s been forever-”

“Since Chora’s Den when you thought I was giving out lap dances,” she sighed, crossing her arms.  “Probably better not to bring that up to me unless you want to get shot.”

Harkin looked between her, Garrus, and Grunt from where he was huddled on the ground.  He seemed to be trying very hard to fade through the wall.  “You… did you come here just because of that?  I’m sorry, I just meant you are a good looking woman and anyone would be lucky to-”

“Should I tear his leg off?” Grunt asked.

“Hold off, Garrus needs to ask him some questions first,” Shepard smirked.  “Harkin, you better think really long and hard before you answer because my krogan friend here is itching to crush more skulls.”

Harkin looked appropriately terrified and turned his gaze to Garrus.  “Questions?”

“Just a few,” Garrus murmured, voice smooth and unhurried.  He was honestly surprised at his lack of anger in this moment.  The excitement was too strong.  “Sidonis.”

“I don’t know-” Harkin started, but then Grunt began his braying laugh and Harkin went quiet, eyes glancing between the three of them.  “He’s here. On the Citadel.”

“Where?” Garrus asked, putting his foot on Harkin’s knee and pressing down just enough to get his point across.

Harkin was panting.  “I don’t know, I don’t… No, nononono, really! I don’t know! I don’t ask - I just give them new names, new idents, and they’re gone.”

“Surely you can call him back in,” Shepard said as if it was obvious.  “Say there’s been a mix-up.  Say… an agent needs to meet him.”

Harkin snorted and Garrus pressed down harder.  He felt Harkin’s knee dislocate under his foot and Harkin howled in pain, thrashing against the wall.

Grunt chuckled.  “Stupid human.”

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” he screamed.  “I’ll call him.  Set up a meeting.”

“Do it now and do it right, Harkin, or I will relish the feeling of shredding your neck with my talons,” Garrus breathed.

Harkin whimpered for a moment before calling up his omni-tool, eyes never leaving Garrus’.

 

* * *

“He’s going to recognize me, Garrus,” Shepard murmured as they sat in the parked skycar.  “I’m the most recognizable human in the galaxy.”

“Keep your helmet on,” he replied.  He knew his tone was unnecessarily harsh but he could feel Shepard getting uneasy at the prospect of helping him kill a man in cold blood.

But she didn’t understand.  He had tried to tell her so long ago, had tried to make her see why it needed to be done.  But she hadn’t listened to him then and he didn’t think anything had changed much since.

Shepard looked out the side window and was silent for a moment before sighing.  “Garrus, do you really want to do this?”

“More than anything,” was his only reply.

He could feel the tension in the car mounting.  Grunt was in the backseat, unusually quiet.  When Garrus glanced in the rearview, he saw Grunt looking at Shepard with something like confusion. And then he reached forward and placed a hand on Shepard’s shoulder.

Garrus caught Shepard’s face tilting into a sad smile, reflecting back at him through the window. Grunt’s hand fell away from her shoulder and she glanced back at him, mouthing something.  Garrus wasn’t sure if Grunt understood the word - Garrus certainly didn’t - but he guessed it didn’t really matter.

Garrus felt like he was interrupting something personal.  He felt like he was on the outside.  It was an odd feeling - being on the outside when it came to Shepard.  Since they had met they were the fastest of friends.  It had been them against the galaxy.  Sometimes even against the rest of the crew. 

But now it was different.  And although Shepard had her share in the blame, Garrus couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the one doing the pushing now.

“I’m sorry, Shepard,” Garrus sighed.  “I know you don’t understand why, but I need this.”

“Well, then I guess that’s enough,” Shepard murmured, getting out of the car.  “I’m going to head down there.  When you see him, send me a comm.”

Garrus nodded but she wasn’t looking at him as the door slid down and she began moving toward the stairs.

 

* * *

 

It had felt good, finally being able to pull that trigger.  Finally taking Sidonis out for everything he had done to the men he once called brothers.  To Garrus himself.

Shepard had walked away from the body, her helmet splattered with blue blood,  She hadn’t said anything when she rejoined them in the car, but she did take her helmet off and toss it into the backseat beside Grunt, trying not to look at it.    

She was quiet but she wasn’t mad.  Her silence was more contemplative.  

“Back to the ship?” Garrus asked.

“No,” Shepard replied softly.  “Noodles.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Grunt said, voice low and rumbling.

She smiled at him, forcing cheerfulness into her face.  “I want to.  Noodles with my boys,” she said, chuckling.

Garrus couldn’t blush, but he imagined that if he could have, he would have.

Her boys.

Garrus deftly maneuvered the skycar away from the city center and toward Zakera Ward.  The drive was mostly silent, aside from Grunt humming something about tearing limbs and eating noodles.

When they arrived at the ramen shop, they were greeted exuberantly and shown to a booth in the back where Grunt had a hard time fitting into the seat.

“Damn humans, making everything so small,” he grumbled.

“We can sit at the bar?” Shepard suggested, already glancing over the menu as she slid into the other side of the booth.

“No,” Grunt said firmly, finally squashing his bulk into the booth.  “I like this.”

Because of his size, Shepard and Garrus were forced to sit beside one another. Garrus had expected her to be uncomfortable with the situation, but Shepard was unflappable.

They ordered their meals and drinks and Shepard smiled over at Grunt.  “So, what do you say we stop by Tuchanka soon?  Maybe see my old buddy Wrex?”

Grunt grunted, looking down at the table.

That wasn’t the response Shepard was looking for, evidently, and she frowned at his lack of excitement.  “I’ve told Wrex about you.  He said that you might be interested in trying your hand at their Rite of Passage.  Supposedly you get to kill a lot of stuff.”

Grunt looked more intrigued at that prospect.  “Humans?”

Shepard frowned.  “I don’t actually know.  I doubt it.  Maybe some varren?”

Grunt snorted.  “Varren.”

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Shepard said, sounding defeated.

“I didn’t say that,” Grunt replied sullenly.

When their food was brought to them, the chef chuckled and said, “Interesting family you have here.”

Garrus’ mandible flared wide and Grunt chuckled while Shepard beamed.  “Thanks.  I think we’re kind of cute.”

The chef laughed and patted Garrus’ shoulder.  “Enjoy your meal.”  And then he was gone, leaving Garrus wondering what had just happened.

Shepard put a hand gently on his leg under the table.  “Don’t worry, I’m not getting any ideas of picket fences.”

And then her hand was gone, just like the chef, with little warning.

 

* * *

 

“Do you feel better now?” Shepard asked softly, loitering in front of Garrus in her tight skinsuit. Her armor was tucked away and Grunt had already left the shuttle bay to tell Joker about his kills.

“I do,” he replied, sliding his greaves off.

“... Do you really?”

He sighed and looked at her, meeting her green eyes with his.  And then he realized he couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t try to deceive her.  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, slowly.  “I thought it would make things better.  But I just feel….”

“Empty,” she guessed, and accurately.

Garrus nodded, not breaking eye contact

Shepard sighed and put a hand on his cheek, caressing his mandible gently.  “I want to talk about this,” she murmured softly.  “Take some time to process.  I’m here when you’re ready.”

Garrus’ heart hammered so loudly that he was sure she could hear it.  He nodded, not sure if he could articulate words.

She smiled gently and leaned up on her tiptoes, kissing his chin.  “Get some sleep tonight.”

He watched her leave the shuttle bay, her body moving like liquid.  He watched her disappear into the elevator and felt his chest clench tightly.  
  



	6. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["I'm Sorry," by Swell.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VE3NoWhROc) Please enjoy!

Garrus felt lighter than he had in the months since he and Shepard had downgraded their relationship to friends.  He was beginning to realize why she was acting so oddly, why she grimaced every time she caught her reflection in the mirrors or windows throughout the ship.  

She still wasn’t sure if she was really Shepard.  If her choices were really her own, or if she was just a Cerberus puppet.

Sometimes, Garrus thought he knew Shepard better than she did.  It wasn’t just her mannerisms, how her lips twitched upward on one side when she was feeling feisty, the startling bark of laughter that shot from her mouth when she was sincerely amused, the way her eyelashes dusted her cheeks and a faint pink glow rose on her cheeks when she was embarrassed, the way she snored and refused to admit it.

He knew these things, of course.  He had watched her closely for so long that every twitch, every move, was a tell that gave her away.  But he also knew her silences - her contented ones where so felt so at ease that words weren’t necessary.  Her moody silences where she wouldn’t meet anyone else’s eyes.  Her contemplative silences where she stared off into the flicking stars whooshing past her skylight.

That morning, sitting at a mess table with a bowl of something white, she was in one of her contemplative silences.

Garrus sat across from her, not saying anything for a moment.  He regarded her, taking in her mussed hair and smudged makeup.  She hadn’t been to bed yet in spite of it being 0430.  Her high cheekbones were looking sunken, the dark circles under her eyes either from mascara or lack of sleep. Or, more probably, both.

“It’s late,” Garrus murmured softly.

Shepard jumped a little before looking up at him, blinking rapidly.  She smiled faintly, looked down at her bowl, at the melty stuff inside of it.  “Can’t sleep.  It’s been hard recently.”

“Anything bothering you?”  At her baleful look, he amended, “Anything in particular that you want to talk about?”

Shepard shrugged her bare shoulders, the halter straps of her N7 tank sliding closer to her neck.  “I don’t know, Garrus.  I guess I’m just… tired.  Tired of not knowing.  Tired of looking at this face,” she added, a hand flickering over her healing scars.  The cybernetics still glowed a pale orange, less severe than before, but still there.

“I like looking at this face,” he said gently, reaching out to brush a gloved talon over her cheek.  “I didn’t get to see it for so long.”

Shepard smiled but there was sadness tinging it.  “How do you know it’s really mine?”

“Because I know you, Shepard,” he said simply, his hand lowering, tracing across her jaw.  “I know this face and this body and this voice and… I know this heart,” he added, hand lowering but stopping just above the neckline of her shirt.  He could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

It would never stop amazing him how frail humans were.  How soft. How thin.

Shepard’s hand rose to cover Garrus’.  “I miss you,” she said, swallowing, eyes regarding his closely.  He could see it in her gaze - she was preparing for him to rip her heart out again.

Garrus turned his hand in her grip, closing his three fingers around her slender five.  “Then how do you have any doubt that you’re you, Shepard?”

She blinked, having not expected that, and then her hand squeezed his.  “I never thought about that.  I guess Cerberus wouldn’t want their poster child cavorting with a rebel turian.”  

Garrus chuckled, his voice dipping lower.  “I miss you too, Shepard.  More than I could ever say.”

She nodded, her eyes clear.  She opened her mouth and then closed it, glancing away before whispering, “I think this has been good for us.  It's tough, but... I think you made the right choice.”

Garrus’ heart clenched though he wasn’t sure why.  Perhaps it was because he expected her to still want him back, still try to fight for his affections.  But he should have known better.  Shepard put others ahead of herself in everything… even romance.  If Garrus wanted a break, she would be damned if she made that difficult for him.

Garrus squeezed her fingers again.  “Come on.  Come rest in the Battery.  I have some work to do and you might be able to sleep better in the heat.”

Shepard smiled and nodded.  Their hands parted reluctantly and Shepard followed him into his room, leaving her bowl on the table.  She settled in on his long, dipped bed, head resting on her arm.  As she fell asleep, Garrus glanced over at her now and again, admiring her.  She still slept like an angel.  

He noticed that her prison tattoos were gone from the underside of her arm - unable to be duplicated by Miranda for the sheer fact that no one else knew they were there.

“I’m sorry, Shepard,” Garrus murmured as he watched her.

He was sorry for so much.  The least of which was that she was a different person now, unable to reconcile the changes that had been forced upon her.

There was a worry there where there used to be reckless abandon.  There was darkness and melancholy.

And he was sorry because he wasn’t able to be there for her completely, to be the rock she needed.

Because he needed a rock, too.  

 

* * *

Haestrom’s sun nearly killed Garrus.  He was surprised at the discovery since he had been born on a hot, tropical, solar irradiated planet.  That being said, Haestrom made him feel like his protected skin was as thin as the humans who accompanied him.

“How are you two surviving in this?” Garrus demanded over the comms.  The women seemed completely unaffected as they moved from cover to cover, dodging the solar rays that ruined their shields in seconds.

“I think I’ve lost twenty-percent of my body weight in sweat,” Kasumi said.

“Make it fifty-percent for me,” Shepard gasped.

“Commander Shepard can never be outdone, not even when it comes to sweating in her armor,” Kasumi groused between pants.

Their trek through the former colony’s ruins was interrupted with non-stop geth, which made Shepard groan.  “What I wouldn’t give for Tali to be here right now.”

“Nice to know I’m chopped liver,” Kasumi shot back.

“Love you, K,” Shepard replied, lining up a shot through her scope and obliterating a Prime’s optic lens from a klick away.

“Nice,” Garrus complimented her.  She was getting better with the rifle - still not as good as Garrus was, but for taking it up less than four years ago - and being dead for two of those - she was pretty damn good.

“Thanks, Vakarian,” Shepard breathed.  “Maybe help us out instead of admiring my superior skills?”

Kasumi’s delighted giggle filled their comms, making Garrus grin.  “If you want a show, Shepard, I am happy to oblige.”

 

* * *

 

The Colossus was slowing them down and Tali was in their ear, whispering that her location had been compromised and that there were geth hunters inbound. Too many for her to guess at - too many for her to fight off on her own.

Garrus could hear the panic in Shepard’s voice, hidden under layers of reassurance and bravado.  “Tali, we’ll be there in a second.  Find a place to hide and put that tech to good use.”

“Yes, Shepard,” the quarian replied, seeming relieved, seeming to have not heard the tinge of terror in Shepard’s voice.

“Shepard, we can’t get past that Colossus and we don’t have time to take it down,” Kasumi argued from where she was ducked beside Shepard, wincing at each deafening shot from the massive geth behemoth.  “Too many more of these hits and this pillar is coming down,” she added.

Shepard sighed heavily and popped out of cover for a moment to look around their surroundings.  She ducked back down before the next blow was delivered.  The pillar beside them shuddered under the force, shrapnel raining down.

“Cover me,” Shepard breathed.  And then she was darting over cover, charging ahead, straight at the Colossus.

“Shepard!” Kasumi screamed, trying to reach out to grab her wrist.  But Shepard was always fastest when doing something reckless.  She slipped through Kasumi’s fingers like water.

“Shepard, damnit!” Garrus shouted, staring down his sights, unloading three rapid succession shots at the Colossus.  The thing didn’t seem to even feel it, its spindly head swiveling to hone in on Shepard’s form.

“Get into cover!” Garrus yelled over Kasumi’s submachine gun rattling off rounds.

Shepard slid into the closest cover, a felled beam, but it wasn’t fast enough.  The Colossus let off a round and the laser slid neatly into Shepard’s side, making her yell out in agony.  She dragged herself further into cover, panting, holding herself just above the hip.  Her shields were buzzing, trying to repair the damage to themselves, flickering blue and angry over her armor.

“Shit,” she cursed hotly.

“Shepard, stay where you are,” Garrus ordered her.  “I’m coming.”

“No!” she returned, getting to her knees, crouching down low, breathing hard.  “Cover me like you mean it and I’ll be fine.”

After the next hit shattered a hole in the wall behind Shepard, she rolled out of cover and began running again.  Garrus and Kasumi laid down fire on the Colossus and it sputtered, head swiveling between Shepard’s incoming form and the gunfire raining down on it.

In its confusion, Shepard made it to the door that led to Tali’s position, sliding inside.

Garrus tried to keep breathing, tried to stay focused on taking the Colossus down, but his mind kept running over the sight of her huddled against the wall, holding her side, panting.  He tried not to look at where she had landed because he knew there were splatters of red, red blood.

The Colossus eventually fell and exploded in a bright flash of electricity and heat.  Garrus was on his feet and running to the door, Kasumi close behind.

“Shepard!” he called over the comms.  “Shepard, you alive?”

“She’s in here!” Tali called and Garrus rounded the corner, finding Tali kneeling over Shepard who was slouched against the wall, breathing heavily, her helmet off and brow dotted in sweat.

“Shepard, Jesus,” Kasumi groaned, sinking to the other side of her.  “You’re really stupid for being really smart.”

“I’m pretty sure they call that brave,” she wheezed back, laughing.  “I’m fine, I’ll be fine.  The suit finally got me my medi-gel.  Everything is kind of… bouncy.”

Garrus felt relief wash over him, and then anger, and then relief again.  He crouched down over her legs, staring at her.  He knew she couldn’t see him through his helmet which he was suddenly very glad for.  He didn’t want her to see how upset he was with her.

“You’re an idiot,” he finally said, making Shepard laugh and choke.

“You know you love that about me, Vakarian.”

Garrus swallowed past the lump in his throat.  “Don’t let it go to your head, Shepard.  An idiot looking up to another idiot doesn’t make it any better.”

Shepard snorted but her smile radiant.

Kal’Reegar joined them a few moment later, limping from a leg injury.  As he drew close, Joker came over the comm and announced their shuttle had arrived.  

“Keelah, Shepard.  And I thought I was hurt,” Reegar said simply, looking at the limp Commander on the floor.  “What happened?”

“The Colossus,” she replied simply. After a breath, she added, “I was hoping to take Tali off of your hands for a while.  I need a tech expert and she’s the best there is.”

“Chopped liver,” Kasumi sighed.

“What is chopped liver?” Garrus asked, confused as to why she kept saying it.

He wasn’t answered, though, because Kal’Reegar was sighing.  “Tali, if you wish to go you are free to.   Your assignment has been completed and… Shepard is a good captain.  She’ll lead you to something great.”

Tali’s voice held excitement when she murmured, “Thank you.  It means a lot to hear you say this.”

Reegar reached out to grasp her forearm, which they did, and then Tali hugged him.  “I’ll be back before you know it,” she said before pulling back.  “Keelah se’lai.”

“Keelah se’lai,” he responded.  There was something like sorrow in his voice.

Garrus hoisted Shepard up in his arms, not listening to her insistence that she could walk just fine.  She had just got done complaining about how everything was bouncy and she expected him to let her walk on her own?

Shepard tucked her face against his cowl and murmured, “I’m sorry, Garrus.”

“For being an idiot?”

Shepard chuckled sleepily.  “For everything.  But especially for being an idiot.”

She was asleep by the time they were on the shuttle.  Garrus didn’t have the heart to wake her, so he set her in his lap, cradling her back with one arm, the other on her lap. Her head had lolled gently on his shoulder, her even breathing caressing against his neck.

He tried to pretend that he didn’t see Kasumi smirking at him.

The girl could be insufferable sometimes.  It was no wonder she and Shepard were becoming fast friends.

 

* * *

 

Shepard had lost a lot of blood, but the medi-gel had done its job and mostly repaired the gash in her side before she got to the med bay.  Even so, she was kept overnight for observation and was not allowed visitors while getting her blood transfusions. 

The next night when she was finally able to convince Chakwas she was well enough to sleep in her own bed, she walked into her cabin to find Kasumi standing by her case of models.  Kasumi’s hand was hovering over Shepard’s current favorite, the Destiny Ascension.

“Kasumi,” Shepard said, her voice carrying an amused warning.  “Were you about to seal from your Commander?”

Kasumi chuckled, pulling her hand out of the case and closing it softly.  “I was just curious if you’d notice.”

“Of course I’d notice,” Shepard replied, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall with a slight wince.  Her side was still tender.  “You don’t mess with Shepard’s models.  Or her space hamster,” she added, glancing over at the fuzzy creature who was running laps in his cage, energized by Shepard’s voice.

Kasumi sighed and murmured, “Thane, come out, the jig is up.”

Thane slid out of the bathroom, surprising Shepard.  She raised an eyebrow at Kasumi.  “Is this something I should be worried about?”

“Just a friendly competition,” Thane murmured, unflappable as usual.  

Shepard narrowed her eyes and ducked into the bathroom, glancing around.  Everything was where she had left it - her face washes and moisturizers were lined up along the sink and her bag of makeup was untouched. 

She sighed and turned back to the pair who were looking too innocent to be trusted.  “Get out of here before I throw you in the brig,” she said without any heat, making Kasumi giggle and Thane smile gently.

The pair left, standing closer together than usual.  Shepard couldn’t help the twitch of her lips at the sight of it.  They were adorable together, she had to admit - two skilled professionals finding silly antics to fill their time.  To fill their time together.

Like she and Garrus used to do.

The thought made a pang ricochet through Shepard’s chest. She moaned a bit as she stumbled toward her bed, sitting down for only a moment before she remembered the feel of Garrus’ cool, hard carapace against her lips, his slender waist between her hands, the ridges of his hips poking into her.

She let out a shuddering gasp, shaking the thoughts from her head.  She got to her feet with only a small wince and went into the bathroom, intent on taking a shower and letting the water wash it all away.

She turned on the faucet, nude and trembling - from cold or the memory of her body writhing under Garrus’, she wasn’t sure.  But the water did not come out, it only dribbled down the wall in the most anti-climactic waterfall she’d ever seen.

She looked up and finally noticed it.

Her shower head was missing.

“Goddamnit, Thane,” she muttered softly, sinking to the ground, her back against the gurgling fall of hot water.


	7. Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything here!
> 
> **Chapter Warning:** So much sweetness your teeth might explode.
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Issues," by Julia Michaels.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Ke4480MicU) Please enjoy!

Shepard, Thane, and Jacob had been out most of the night trying to find Thane’s son.  Garrus tried not to feel bad that he hadn’t been invited on the mission since he had begun entering the rotation again.  Even so, he couldn’t help the small feeling of remorse that Shepard was out there without him.

They had been getting closer again over the past month.  She had taken to coming down to the Main Battery to sleep in his bed while he worked.  He had taken to watching her sleep instead of working.

They were eating together again, joking again, smiling again.  Things were getting easier.

Garrus wasn’t sure why, but he was anticipating that something would come along and ruin it soon.  It had to.

When the three returned to the ship, Shepard was running a hand through her long hair, yawning.  “Hey,” she greeted Garrus, bumping his thigh with her hip. “We’re heading out to Boltzmann to help Kasumi with her greybox thing, then to Omega to help Samara out.  I was thinking about a night out drinking on Omega - stop by Afterlife, maybe?”

“You just want to see Aria again,” he teased her, recalling her strange fascination and crush on the potentially psychotic asari.

Shepard had the decency to look shy.  “Well, that’s not the  _ only  _ reason.”

Garrus chuckled.  “Sounds good.  I’ll be there as long as you’re not expecting me to be your… featherman?”

“Wingman,” she corrected with a grin.  “Come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t know that one, working with C-Sec and all.”

Garrus shrugged, leaning against the wall.  “I guess I wasn’t much in the way of a partier.”

Shepard rolled her eyes and tweaked his mandible as she passed by him.

 

* * *

 

Garrus’s breath caught in his throat.  Shepard had emerged from her cabin in a slinky black dress.  The long sleeves gave way to a v-neck that ran from her shoulders to her bellybutton.  The hem of the dress hit her at her mid-thigh.  The whole outfit was tight, not leaving much room for imagination or sudden movements.

She was on tall, sharp shoes that looked impossible to stand on, let alone walk in.  And around her neck was a glittering green gemstone that matched her eyes.

“Looking good, Miss Alison Gunn,” Kasumi cooed, running her hand along Shepard’s arm.  “I told you this dress would pay for itself.”

Shepard sighed, glancing at her reflection in the med bay windows.  “I don’t know, Kasumi.  I have nowhere to put a gun.”

“Sure you do,” Kasumi chirped, grabbing a thigh holster from the mess table and leaning down to affix it to Shepard’s leg.  The hemline was raised to just below her hips and Garrus’ heart stuttered at the sight of her shapely thighs and the silky black underwear he could just see a hint of.

He missed her.  He missed feeling that body in his hands, underneath him, above him....

Kasumi got the holster in place and slid Shepard’s gun into it, humming her approval.  “They’ll be fine with you having your pistol.  It’s not like he doesn’t have an assortment of guards that could put you down in case you got trigger happy.”

Shepard snorted.  “Well then.  I guess things better go smoothly.”

“It looks like your necklace is recording well,” Tali said from where she sat at the table, watching her omni-tool interface.  “Good vocals, good resolution.  We’ll be able to swoop in and save you when you need it.”

_ “If  _ I need it,” Shepard corrected.

Tali was silent for a moment before saying,  _ “When.” _

 

* * *

 

Shepard hadn’t needed an extraction, as it turned out, but things had gotten a little dicey on the mission.  The least dicey of which, though the one Garrus couldn’t stop thinking about, was Shepard’s dance with one of the turian guests at the party.

She had been ordered to blend in while Kasumi hacked into the vault.  Naturally, Shepard decided to go to the bar.  That was when a turian approached her, bought her another drink, wooed her, and then pulled her onto the dance floor.

Her laughter sounded genuine, Garrus thought with a flicker of heat in his stomach.   She was happy to be leaning into the taller turian, accepting his compliments, breezing through the room as graceful as a gazelle.  Garrus knew it was all for the turian’s lead, but it was still surprising when Shepard didn’t trip in her heels.

When she got back from the mission, she was flushed and smiling in spite of being shot at by an endless barrage of mercs and a gunship.  She stripped out of her armor, removed her skinsuit, and stood in her underwear, rifling through her locker for a change of clothing.

“Have fun?” Garrus asked as he strode over to her.

She turned slightly, her smile widening.  “Hey.  Yeah, it was one of the better parties I’ve been to.  I feel like it’s always good to see the assholes you hate most and then get a chance to kill them.”

“What about your turian dance partner?” he asked.

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him.  “He’s a slaver, Garrus.  I would have  _ especially  _ loved to shoot him in the smug face.”

He knew her answer shouldn’t have pleased him as much as it did, but they parted ways with Garrus’ undamaged mandible wiggling in pleasure.

 

* * *

 

Garrus sat at the bar, ordered another drink, and scanned over the faces of those assembled at Afterlife.  He had expected Shepard to have been back from her mission by now.  He hadn’t been given the details of what she was doing, exactly, but she hadn’t seemed worried.

It was nearly midnight when Samara touched his shoulder.  “Garrus.”

“Is she okay?” he asked, instantly on high alert. 

“She is fine, just tired,” Samara replied unhurriedly.  “She wanted me to find you and tell you that she would like to see you in her cabin if you are feeling up to it.  I’m afraid she’s rather bedridden for the evening.”

“What happened?” he asked, getting to his feet and following her out of the club.

“She went up against a powerful Ardat-Yakshi this night,” Samara murmured, voice filling the space between them in spite of her speaking so softly.  “My daughter.  It is not something many could survive.  Your Shepard is a strong woman.”

“She is,” Garrus agreed without hesitation.

When he arrived back at the Normandy, he found the ship quiet and mostly deserted.  Joker was gone, probably sleeping, and the ship seemed to be running on a skeleton crew. He passed through the CIC and glanced around at all of the empty terminals.

Shore leave, he realized.  Shepard must have authorized a shore leave.

He took the elevator up to Shepard’s room and was pleasantly surprised to see her looking fine, sitting on the couch in a pair of small shorts and a thin tank top, her hair up in a messy bun. 

She glanced up and smiled at him, teeth glinting in the light.  “Hey!  Sorry I couldn’t make it to Afterlife, I am pretty beat after an Ardat-Yakshi tried to fuck-kill me.  But!  I thought we could have a party here instead.”

Garrus chuckled, looking over the large assortment of liquor bottles on her coffee table.  “Sounds good, Shepard.  Better than Afterlife any day, but Aria did ask after you.  I think she might be a little disappointed you didn’t show up - not that she’d ever admit to it.”

Shepard was grinning as she unsealed two bottles, one blue and one pink, and poured them each a glass.  She handed the pink one to Garrus and sipped from her blue drink, wincing a bit.  “Jesus, this is awful,” she chuckled, glancing at the label.  “Asari Sunrise sounds pleasant - this, not so much.”

Garrus sat beside her, probably closer than he should have, and downed his drink, handing her his glass for a refill.  Shepard raised an eyebrow at him, smirking.  “Are you proposing a drink off?”

“We never did have one in Branson,” Garrus reminded her.  

Shepard downed her drink and refilled both of their glasses.

They made it to six shots before they were both feeling like a break was needed.  Instead of saying that, though, Garrus groaned, “Okay, real talk.”

“Real talk, love it,” Shepard said, leaning back against the corner of the couch, stretching her legs out to lay across his lap.  “Shoot.”

“Were you having fun dancing with that turian at Hock’s party a few days ago?”

Shepard regarded him blankly for a moment before giggling.  “Aww, Garrus, were you jealous?” She tilted her head to the side and smirked.  “It was nice.  It’s always nice getting positive attention.  But I would have killed him in cold blood if I got the chance, I told you that.”

“But you had fun dancing?”

She shrugged.  “Sure.  I had a little bit of fun.”

“And flirting with this Ardat-Yakshi?”

“Sure.  She was pretty, I was pretty, it felt… fun.  Dark and sensual.  But, there’s the same deal - I was willing to kill her at any moment.  Almost got the chance to before Samara showed up and finished her off.”

“Samara seemed to think she saved you from dying.”

Shepard pursed her lips.  “Okay, that might be more accurate.”  She narrowed her eyes at him suddenly.  “Samara told you I was flirting with her daughter?”

Garrus chuckled.  “No, it was just a guess.”

Shepard groaned and tilted her head back on the couch.  “Okay, fine.  Now I get to ask a question.  When was the last time you talked to your dad?”

“That’s what you want to waste your question on?” Garrus sighed, his mandible clicking.  “The day you came back.  I was pinned in that office building and just… waiting to die.  I called him, just to hear his voice.  To try to mend things.”

“And?” Shepard pressed gently.

“He… he told me to come back to Palaven when I was free.”

“Garrus,” Shepard whispered, leaning forward and putting a hand on his knee.  “Shit, Garrus.  Let’s go.  Let’s go to Palaven.  You need to see your family before-”

“I don’t,” he said quickly.  “I… can’t.  I can’t do that to them.  Show up and then suddenly disappear through the Omega-4 Relay.  It’s better if they think I’m dead now.  At least until this suicide mission is over.”

Shepard bit her lower lip.  He knew she wanted to argue with him - she had always taken his family’s side.  It might have been because she’d always wanted a close family.  It might have been that she hoped Garrus wouldn’t someday run off without telling her, only calling her when he was in trouble but too stubborn to ask for help.

“Pour us some more,” he said and Shepard sighed but complied.

They downed four more shots each before Shepard collapsed back on the couch, sliding down the leather so that her head was in the corner, her ass pressing against his thigh, her legs tented over his lap.

Garrus reached down, caressing a talon across her knee. She shuddered at the touch, giggling as she wriggled.  “That tickles,” she groaned.

“You humans, so easy to harass,” he teased her, his hand traveling higher on her thigh, sliding closer to the apex of her legs.

Her sharp intake of breath made Garrus realize what he was doing too late.  He pulled back from her and she slid into a sitting position, watching him with confused eyes.

“Sorry,” he said quickly.  “Habit, I guess.”

Shepard nodded.  She didn’t look upset - far from it, in fact.  Her pupils had widened, something he remembered from each time she was aroused.  “Um… should we take a break on the drinks?” she asked hesitantly, sounding like she wasn’t sure where to go from there.

“Probably, if we plan on being good,” Garrus replied, not sure what it meant.  He stood suddenly and blurted, “I have something for you.  Something I bought… well, it’s something I’ve been meaning to give to you.  Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

He left the room quickly, needing the fresh air and a momentary break from the scent of vanilla clinging to her room, her body. He went into the main battery and found the package he’d been carrying around with him for years - almost three, in fact.  Since the day before Shepard died.

He carried it back to her room and found her on the edge of the bed, legs curled under her, another drink in her hand.  Her eyes widened when she saw the large package.  “Whoa, Garrus, what the hell is that?”  And then her eyes widened.  "That was with you when you were pinned down.  When we found you.  I carried it to the Normandy.  It's... for me?"

He placed it on the bed beside her.  “Open it.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him, finishing her drink and placing the glass on the floor.  She slid a fingernail between the seam on the plastic package but it didn’t budge.  Sighing, she glanced up at Garrus.  “Mind lending me a talon, my fine bird friend?”

Garrus slid a talon between the layers and popped it apart easily.  He pulled away to let Shepard open the case.

Which she did eagerly.  And then she paused, blinking in disbelief. “Oh my God.”

“Do you like it?”

“How… how did you ever afford this?”

Garrus shrugged as if it was nothing, but her reaction pleased him more than he wanted to say.  Her eyes were swimming with emotion, with gratefulness.  “I knew a guy who knew a guy.  When he heard about my request, he tracked it down.”

Shepard gingerly ran a hand across the face of the blue acoustic guitar, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.  “Oh my God,” she repeated.  “It looks just like the one I used to have.  Until Finch got pissed and took a machete to it.”

“I was going to give it to you before you…” he trailed off.  “Anyway… I’ve been carrying it around since, just as a reminder.  A piece of you, I guess. Play something,” Garrus suggested, going to sit on the couch.

Shepard shook her head, wiping at her tears.  “It’s been so long, I don’t know, I….”  She broke off and took a breath.  “Sure.  I’ll try.  Just… don’t make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied truthfully, pouring himself a drink.

She picked the guitar up gingerly, placing the band over her shoulder and arranging it on her folded legs.  The guitar was almost larger than her and looked awkward in her small lap.  She plucked at the strings for a while, tuning it, before thumbing a melody out, her left hand wandering up and down the neck.

It was a lilting, simple melody, but one that struck something deep inside of Garrus’ chest.  He watched her as she bent over the guitar, her lithe fingers lovingly caressing over the strings.

And then she began singing.

 

_“Oh the weather ain’t so fine today,_

_ But darling it’s just right for me. _

_ I’ve been thinking of you. _

_ I’ve got these far away blues.” _

 

Her voice was beautiful.  It wasn’t trained and it wasn’t natural talent, but when she sang she sang with her heart.  That was enough for Garrus.

 

_ “Oh the water’s mad, _

_ She’s been fighting with the wind. _

_ And I’ve been thinking of you. _

_ Got these far away blues. _

 

_ “Please don’t take me the wrong way, _

_ Things are fine, the people are great, but. _

_ I’ve been thinking of you. _

_ Got these far away blues.” _

 

Garrus watched her as she strummed out a few more bars, humming softly with the melody.  When she pulled it to a close, she hesitantly looked up at Garrus.  “What did you think?”

“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”  And then he opened his arms and Shepard grinned, placing the guitar back in its case.  She walked over to him, her hips swaying in their rhythmic way, and then she lowered herself into his lap.

“Garrus,” she began softly. “Can we… talk?  About everything that happened after… after I died.”

Garrus hadn’t expected to hear those words from her.  He hadn’t expected her to ever be willing to have the conversation.  “I.. would like that.”

Shepard swallowed and turned in his lap, straddling his thighs in order to look at him.  Garrus tried not to be distracted by the twitch he felt in his abdomen at her proximity.  He tried to focus on her face, on her words.

“I was woken up by the sound,” she murmured, biting the inside of her cheek.  “It was like… something trying to tear the inside of my head open.  I got dressed, I got suited up, I ran downstairs… and Jesus, Garrus, there was so much fire everywhere.  The systems were down, Joker could barely keep control of the ship.  Kaidan was trying to pull me into an escape pod but I ran to get Joker.”

She paused, eyelids fluttering as they closed. “I got Joker to a pod and then… there was an explosion.  I didn’t know what was happening at the time, I just….”  She looked away, taking a deep breath.  “I fell through the deck.  My suit was compromised, my airline was leaking and I….”  She met his gaze.  “And then everything was explosions and stars and no air.  Eventually I just… went still.  I didn’t have the fight in me anymore.  And then… I woke up two years later.”

Garrus brushed her almost-healed cheek gently with a talon.  “I’m sorry.”

“I still wake up thinking I’m suffocating.  I still wake up and think it’s the end.”  She shook her head as if trying to shake the memory.  Her skin was dappled with bumps even though her cabin was balmy.  After a few moment of silence, she gingerly asked, “What… what happened the day I died?  For you, I mean.”

Garrus swallowed.  “I was at work.  It was around noon when Pallin came into my office.  He shut the door and told me to sit.  And when I did, he just… said it.  ‘I know you had a close relationship with Jane Shepard.  I hate doing this to you, Vakarian, but we just received word that the SR-1 went down over Alchera.  All escape pods have been accounted for and, according to all of the reports and an eyewitness, Jane Shepard went down with her ship.’”

Shepard’s lower lip trembled.  “Garrus, I….”

He shook his head and continued.  “I didn’t believe it.   _Of course_ I didn’t believe it.  I pinged you over and over, begging you to call me, to ping me, anything.  And then the news reports started playing you on a loop.  Your picture, vids of you… vids of us on Earth.  And the dates at the bottom of the screen.  Your birthday  Your day of death.  I... I went to the bar, got drunk.  I went back to work and turned in my badge.  And then I took the first shuttle to Omega.

“I’d originally planned to get into a shootout with some gang, let them end it all for me while taking a few out.  But I ended up meeting Sidonis in Afterlife.  He was getting the shit kicked out of him by a Blood Pack initiate and… I stopped it.  We decided to form a team.  A team of vigilantes, modeled after my dead girlfriend.”

Shepard closed her eyes.  He knew she was trying not to cry, but it seemed to be failing. Small tears were tracing down her cheeks.  He leaned forward to press his mouth against them, tasting the salt.  “Sidonis betrayed us,” he murmured against her skin.  “He was a coward, he turned in all of our names to the Blue Suns in order to buy his own protection.  They blew into our hideout and killed everyone there.”

“Where were you?” she asked softly.

Garrus sighed, feeling her skin tremble under the grumble of his subharmonics.  “Sidonis gave me a lead to a small gang operation in another district.  There was nothing there, of course, but I scoured the place anyway.  When I finally got back to our base, everyone was dead and Sidonis was gone.”

Shepard wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her.  He couldn’t cry, but he felt like, vicariously, he was.  “I’m so sorry, Garrus.  I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you tried to tell me.  I’m sorry I kept shutting you out.”

That was all he needed.  After all of this time, he just needed to be heard and to have her tell him her side of things.  He held her close, breathing in her scent, relishing in the weight of her in his lap, in his arms. He leaned in. brushing his mouth across her jaw.

She let out a little moan.  “Garrus,” she whispered.

“Jane,” he replied softly, reaching up to caress her face, pulling it toward him.

She met his gaze, her eyes hooded.  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered, leaning in, her lips hovering above his mouth.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed, closing the distance between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's little song she played for Garrus is ["Far Away Blues," by Joe Purdy.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bONBf_G-9VU)


	8. Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> **Chapter Warning:** SMUT ALERT!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Feel it Still," by Portugal, The Man.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBkHHoOIIn8) Please enjoy!

Garrus ran his talons down her sides, watching her arch her back, panting, her fingernails scraping over her chest.  Her fingers pulled her tank top down as they descended, displaying the top of her breasts and a glimpse of her black bra.

Garrus groaned as he watched her move, as her hips swiveled on his lap, her legs tightening on either side of his.

“You’re overdressed,” she purred, hands moving to his chest, smoothing across his tunic.

“You are, too,” he returned.  He slipped his gloves off and ran his talons across her tank top, watching them tear through the cloth with ease.  Shepard gasped and groaned, her hips speeding up.  He pushed the destroyed pieces of her tank top off of her and she reached behind her, unhooking her bra.  

Garrus had almost forgotten how perfect her breasts were - full with pale pink, pert nipples.  They were darker now and slightly, minutely, smaller.  But it didn’t matter - they were hers and they were perfect.

“See something you like?” Shepard teased him, running a hand over his head, his fringe, finding the sensitive spot at the back of his neck and rubbing it.

Garrus groaned, burying his face into her breasts, licking the small beads of sweat blossoming on them.  His tongue ran down to her left nipple, sucking it into his mouth, closing his plates around it hard enough to make her yelp and moan.

“Harder,” she begged, her chin falling to his head, lips on his fringe.  “Garrus, please.”

He pressed the plates into her more firmly, making her cry out and arch her back again, her lower body wriggling against his.  

“Fuck,” she whispered reverently, tugging at his tunic and then growling in frustration when she couldn’t get it off of him.  “Get this off. I don’t have talons to shred it like tissue paper.”

Garrus chuckled into her neck and picked her up, carrying her to the bed.  He tossed her down on it, pulling his tunic over his head and sliding out of his civilian pants. 

Shepard hadn’t even taken a second to think before her left hand smoothed over the low seam of his abdominal plates, her warm hand stroking the plates into separating.  His cock erupted from the seam, already standing to full attention.

Shepard hadn’t looked away from his cock once, her eyes like ravenous saucers.  Garrus wasn’t sure what it was about her hungry look that made him feel complete, made him feel whole, made him feel desired.  But the way she looked at him made something burn in the base of his spine. 

He leaned down to grab her shorts with his teeth, ripping them off of her, making her giggle in delight, her hips wriggling.  She wasn’t wearing any underwear which made Garrus’ brain nearly short circuit.  Her sex smelled exactly the same as before, a heady mix of sweet and savory, and Garrus couldn’t help himself.  He dove into the apex of her legs, his tongue flicking out, tasting her for the first time in a very long time.

Shepard groaned, bucking her hips against his face.  The moan that left her mouth was low and long and made Garrus’ cock twitch with need.  He focused on her clit, long tongue curling around it, massaging it.

And then he ran his mouth across the nub and she twitched, crying out, her hands finding the base of his fringe and rubbing.

Garrus almost came right then and there.  The spot she found was a secret weapon of hers, one she used to arouse him in an instant.  She had been the only one to ever ask where his most sensitive spot was. She was the only one to delight in making him feel powerless to his baser instincts.

She had never begrudged him his turian side. His rough nature.  His penchant for biting and clawing. In fact, she encouraged it. 

She orgasmed loudly, her thighs clamping around his face.  He barely felt the pain in his healing mandible - all he could focus on was how wet she was, how sweet, and how good she smelled.

When he pulled back from her sex, he trailed his long tongue up over her abdomen, her bellybutton, the slope between her breasts.  He stopped there to suck her nipples, switching between them, eliciting soft mewls of pleasure from her.

Garrus felt like he would lose his mind if he wasn’t inside of her soon.  She seemed to notice the urgency because she grabbed his chin and pulled his face up roughly.  “Fuck me,” she purred against his faceplates.

Garrus growled against her lips and shoved himself inside of her.  She shouted, face twitching in pain at first, but she was panting and moaning soon after.  Garrus watched her grip her breasts tightly, squeezing her nipples between her fingers.  His breath was coming out in sharp bursts, fluttering her hair back from her face.

Her eyelids fluttered and a wicked smile crossed over her full lips.  “Miranda wasn’t able to duplicate a few things,” she began softly, running a finger over the top of her right breast. “Remember what used to be here?”

Garrus groaned, leaning down to press his face into the space she indicated.  “The bite mark,” he breathed.

“Would it be awful of me to ask you to do it again?” she panted, her hips swiveling against him.

Garrus didn’t respond or wait for a confirmation from her.  His jaws opened wide and his teeth sank into the soft flesh.

Shepard cried out, a sharp sound filled with pain and something else.  Something dark and sensual.  “Yes,” she whispered, pressing her hand against the soft spot on the back of his neck again, fingers deftly massaging it.

Garrus came earlier than he wanted.  He twitched against the power of the climax, the power of the taste of her blood, her sweat, her skin in his mouth.  He kept biting until the last drop spurted out of him.  He slowly released her flesh from his mouth, slumping down onto the bed beside her.

Shepard rolled onto her side, her hand tracing gently down his carapace and his waist.  She didn’t speak - it was something Garrus had always loved about her.  She simply caressed him, regarded him, and waited for his mind to quiet.

When his racing non-thoughts subsided, he chuckled.  “Hey,” he murmured, voice practically humming.

Shepard smiled lazily.  “Hey.”

Garrus reached out with a talon, gently flicking around the bleeding bite mark.  She winced slightly, but she was smiling, pleased and relaxed.

“I suppose this means we are…?” Garrus began, watching her.

Shepard shrugged a small shoulder.  “I’ve never stopped wanting to be with you, Garrus.  Not for a second.  But I don’t want to force you into anything.  If this was just…  _ stress relief… _ that’s fine.”

“Would it be, though?” he asked, his hand rising to her face, cradling her jaw.  “Would you really be okay with this being a fling?  A random assortment of stress relief?”

Shepard’s smile twitched.  “If it’s what you want, yeah.  I just know that I….” she trailed off and then cleared her throat.  “I’d like it to be us against the galaxy again, Garrus.  It’s what I’ve wanted since… God, since Ilos.”

Garrus chuckled, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone.  “I have you beat.  It was when you became a Spectre.”

“Seduced by rank, huh?” she teased him.

He laughed.  “Hardly.  I was just watching the ceremony, watching you, watching all you had become and all you  _ would  _ become… and I was hooked.” He leaned into her, his mouth hovering above hers.  “What do you say we try this cross-species liaison again?”

“I say you’re on,” Shepard replied silkily, pressing her lips into his faceplates.  And then she winced, letting out an agonized noise.  

Garrus pulled back quickly, eyes scanning over her for the signs of her distress. She was curling into something like a fetal position, holding her lower abdomen.  “What is it?” he asked, dread filling him.

“Fuck, I forgot - Jesus, I need to go see Mordin,” she wheezed.

“Mordin… why?  What did I do? What  _ should  _ I do?”  He couldn’t keep the edge of panic from his words.

“Nothing, no, it’s… I can’t believe I’m reacting already.  We need some antihistamine tablets,” she whispered through clenched teeth.   

Garrus was out of bed and dressed in seconds.  “I’ll get them.”  And then he was off, his powerful legs charging toward the elevator.

Shepard focused on breathing slowly, willing her limbs to stop trembling.  She had a similar reaction on Earth after she and Garrus had first had sex, but it hadn’t been nearly as bad as it was now.  She had been able to walk to a drugstore and get dextro-allergen tablets and was fine within ten minutes.  But this felt like liquid fire coursing through her and had come on so suddenly it was mind-boggling.

Garrus returned moments later with the muttering salarian.  Shepard would have been slightly embarrassed to be naked, writing from acid in her vagina, if it was anyone else but Mordin.  As it was, the salarian said, “Tried to warn you about this.  A wonder you didn’t die from anaphylactic shock before now. Inserting needle. Try to remain still.”  And then he was prying her legs apart and inserting the needle into her burning vaginal passage.

The relief was immediate and Shepard’s muscles slowly released as she flopped back, sighing.  “Thanks, Mordin.  Sorry.”

“No need. Was already awake and looking for distraction.  Collector tissue samples still cultivating.  Leaving these tablets on nightstand. One every evening before bed. Do not take more than one. Come see me if you need more.”  After a pause, he added, “Marking, I see.  Perhaps medi-gel?  Will help heal and scar sooner.”

With that, he was gone - probably trying to get away from the naked human before the urge to study her like a cadaver took hold.

“Lucky we have him on board,” Garrus sighed. “I think Chakwas would have had some stronger wording for you.”

“Probably,” Shepard sighed, sliding under her blankets and curling into one of the pillows.  “She is basically the only mother figure I’ve ever had.”  She yawned before patting the bed beside her.  “You staying the night, or are calibrations calling your name?”

He chuckled and slid into bed beside her, taking some time to rearrange himself into something resembling comfortable.  One he was settled, he reached out to brush a talon gently across her jaw.  

"Wait," she said suddenly, turning her head to look at him.  "Do you need a tablet?"

Garrus chuckled, sounding slightly embarrassed.  "I, ah... I've been taking them for the past week.  I thought since things were getting better, maybe...."

Shepard leaned back down into her pillow, grinning.  She seemed delighted more than anything.  "You louse.  I should have known."

Garrus only smiled, curling himself beside her.  “Goodnight, Shepard.”

She smiled sleepily, eyes dropping.  “‘Night, Vakarian.”

 

* * *

 

Garrus had forgotten how affectionate Shepard was.  It wasn’t this way before their breakup - she had been reserved, withholding, probably nervous that she wasn’t really herself.  But now, it was like the past two years hadn’t happened.  She was cheerful and her fingers sporadically found his back, his hands, his knee spurs.  She was discreet, but she never hesitated to show him she was there and she was happy to be.

They sat in the mess with their respective breakfasts the next morning, relishing in the quiet of the crew deck.  It was late morning and shifts had already rotated, leaving most of the crew working or sleeping.

Shepard’s leg slid behind his, her ankle pressing into his foot - a reassuring, gentle presence that Garrus was thankful for.  It was all new again, being this close with her, but it also felt like it had never stopped.  That her death and all of the sorrow Garrus had endured since was just an awful dream.

“Did I wake you up at all last night?” she asked softly.  They were alone in the room, but Shepard tried to stay semi-professional outside of her cabin.  “With the nightmares, I mean.”

“No,” Garrus murmured, reaching out to caress a gloved hand over hers.  “You were fast asleep.”

She smiled softly.  “That’s what I thought.  First time since I woke up that I haven’t had them.”

“I guess I’m a good luck charm,” he returned, making her chuckle.  He knew that wasn’t accurate - when they were first sharing her cabin, she had been plagued by the nightmares even when he was in the room.  Even when he had her curled into his arms or when he was pouring over data pads at her desk or on her couch.

Kasumi chose that moment to flounce into the room, her hooded face looking brighter than usual.  She chuckled when she saw them sitting close together but didn’t say anything about it.  She grabbed a plate of eggs and bacon, the same as Shepard, and came to sit across from them.

“Good morning, you party people,” she greeted, tucking into her eggs.  “I heard you two had fun last night.  Lots of alcohol, or so I was told.”

“And who told you that?” Shepard smirked at the smaller woman.

Kasumi shrugged.  “A little birdie.”

“Well, we probably don’t know what your little birdie was referring to,” Shepard replied easily, pouring some hot sauce on her eggs.

Kasumi didn’t push, but her smile seemed to be widening by the second.

“Kasumi, remember how I was asking where all of my calibration diagnostics went?” Garrus said suddenly, regarding the girl while his mandible wiggled.

Kasumi smirked.  “Maybe.”

“Well, I happened to find them last night.  I wonder how they managed to get into Shepard’s cabin?”

Kasumi’s smile was nearly falling off of her face.  “So, you  _ were  _ in Shep’s room last night?  I guess those ensigns were right when they said they heard growling and shrieking coming from the upper deck.”

Shepard only laughed, covering her face with a hand, glancing over at Garrus.  “You’d think Cerberus would have soundproofed the captain's cabin.”

“I guess they didn’t expect their captain to be having loud, rough, insanely hot-sounding sex with an alien.”

Shepard snorted and sipped from her mug of coffee.  “Probably not.”

Garrus was stuck on something else, though.  “Insanely hot sounding, huh?”

Kasumi shrugged.  “Thane and I might have, maybe, been in the CIC at the time.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes.  “What were you two doing in the CIC during a shore leave? And at 0400?”

“Anyway,” Kasumi cleared her throat, grabbing her plate and fork.  “I better get back to it - in the middle of a riveting book.  You two have fun!” And then she was off, leaving Shepard blinking in confusion.

“Do you think they had sex in the CIC?  With the night crew around?”

Garrus shrugged.  “Maybe.  They  _ are  _ rather sneaky.”

Shepard stared in front of her as if she was trying to contemplate the logistics of such a thing.  “Should we try it?”

“Sex in the CIC?” Garrus asked, chuckling.

“Yeah.  I mean, we’re not nearly as sneaky….”

“Or quiet, evidently.”

Shepard snorted, her hand absently rubbing over her shirt directly above the bandaged bite mark.  “True.  I guess we’re too exciting to have public sex.”

“You sound sad about that.”

Shepard smirked at him.  “That might be one of my bucket list items.  Well, public sex on the _Citadel_ is.”

Garrus thought about it and then chuckled.  “Your bucket list is never boring.”  He thought for a moment before adding, “I think we can figure something out.”

Shepard opened her mouth when EDI interrupted.  “Shepard, The Illusive Man has an urgent mission for you.  A holo is waiting for you in the Meeting Room.”

Shepard sighed.  “I’ll be right there, EDI.”  She finished her food quickly before kissing Garrus and heading for the elevator.  Garrus watched her go, admiring the way her pants hugged her thighs and how her ass moved as she jogged.

He was falling headlong for her all over again.  _  In too deep, too fast _ his father would probably say.

And, as usual, his father was probably right.


	9. Location

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
>  **Chapter Warning:** SMUT!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Location," by Khalid.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=by3yRdlQvzs)
> 
> Please enjoy!

“What’s happening?” Garrus demanded.  The crackling of Shepard’s comm was loud in the cockpit, nothing but inhuman shrieks and gunfire.  “Why aren’t they back yet?”

“Ran into a few snags,” Joker replied, his voice tight.  For once, he wasn’t skimming through displays and analyzing data.  He was simply waiting.

“The ground crew is currently fighting through waves of husks and a Praetorian,” EDI spoke up.  “They are holding, but the amount of collectors is quite staggering.”

“I thought this was a simple recon mission,” Garrus said hotly.  “Shepard said it was just recon!”

“We were misled,” EDI replied evenly.  

“The Illusive Man fucked us, basically,” Joker sighed.  

The comms continued to stuttering with gunfire and then Shepard shouted, “EDI, I need a door open and a goddamn shuttle here, now!  Tali’s been hit!  It’s bad, her suit’s torn.  Have Chakwas get the incubator prepped.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Joker cursed, pulling up his displays again and tapping through screens faster than Garrus could follow.  “Shepard, we’ve got the shuttle coming in - sending you a nav.”

“Shepard, I have opened a door on the far side of the room.  Please be advised that there seems to be a large collector presence at the end of the next hallway.”

Shepard was cursing, running through some of her favorite words, her tone harsh.  

“I’m going to go tell Chakwas,” Garrus said and ran to the elevator, cursing the fact that Cerberus evidently didn’t believe in stairs.  Once the elevator arrived, he stepped inside and frantically pressed the Crew Deck button until it dinged angrily at him.

He ran to Chakwas, alerted her of Tali’s condition, and helped her roll out and set up the full-length incubator they had for this exact reason.  Shepard had insisted they requisition it before they’d even recruited Tali.  Tali had said it was a waste of time and resources when she saw it.  But Tali was still young and still somehow believed she couldn’t be touched.

Once the incubator was up and running, filtering in sterile air, Garrus ran down to the shuttle bay to impatiently pace and wait.  EDI kept checking in, letting him know that Shepard and Samara were on their way and that Tali had passed out but was still breathing.

By the time the shuttle finally slid into the Normandy, Garrus was nearly bursting with anxious energy.  He ran to the shuttle and took Tali from Shepard’s arms.  He didn’t say anything, just ran.  

When he made it to the med bay, Chakwas was ready, waiting with pursed lips as Garrus slid Tali into the device and closed it around her.  “What else can I do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Chakwas admitted, sterilizing her hands before placing them into strange glove-covered holes in the glass cover of the incubator.  She began slowly peeling the ragged, torn areas of Tali’s suit away from her body, exposing pale lavender, glowing skin.  “Sterilizing mist,” she said against the glass, and a green fog seemed to descend from the top of the incubator.

Shepard wandered in, still in her skinsuit, the black neoprene clinging to her from neck to ankle.  She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Garrus gently put an arm around her and pulled her into his side.  “She’ll be fine,” he murmured softly.

She nodded but said nothing.  She looked so tired, so defeated.

EDI came over the intercom, jarring them out of their own inner monologs.  “Shepard, the Illusive Man is available in the meeting room.  I assumed you had some choice words for him.”

Shepard was moving before Garrus even realized it.  He followed after her, confused and slightly curious.  He waited outside of the door, listening as Shepard connected the call.

He couldn’t hear the Illusive Man’s side of things, but he could certainly hear Shepard’s.  There was a lot of shouting, including some of his favorites, _ “If I could kick you in the face right now, I would!  ...You have no fucking idea what we just went through!  Tali might  _ die  _ because you set us up!  ...You better fucking hope we never meet face-to-face because it will not end well for you.  ...I don’t want your hollow apologies, I want some goddamn answers!” _

By the time the call ended and the door to the meeting room opened, Shepard was leaning against the wall looking exhausted.  She offered him a weak smile that faded out faster than it had appeared.

Garrus went to her and wrapped her up in his arms, careful to not press into her too tightly and shove his carapace in her throat.  It had happened once or twice before and the subsequent choking noises still gave him anxiety.

“The others are on their way,” she breathed against his chest.  Her red hair was matted from her helmet and sweat.  Even so, Garrus pressed his faceplates into it.  

“Well, they’ll just have to wait until I can make my girl smile.”

Shepard chuckled, pulling back a bit.  She tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace.  “Thank you.  I’m just… tired.  I feel like the fight has been sucked out of me.”

Garrus ran his hands over her arms, the slick neoprene making a strange sloughing noise as he did.  “You need rest.”

Shepard nodded.  “I’m going to call ahead to the Fleet and let them know we’re coming.  Chakwas is good, but I have a feeling quarian doctors will be much better.”

“Let me do it,” Garrus said softly, leaning down to press his forehead into hers.  She let out a soft, pleased sigh.  “Let me take care of this for you.  You have your meeting with the others and I’ll take care of the Fleet.  When you’re done here, go upstairs and take a nice, long, hot shower and I’ll be waiting for you in bed.”  Shepard quirked an eyebrow, making him chuckle.  “For sleeping.  You need rest.”

Shepard stood on her tiptoes to kiss him as Miranda and Jacob came in.  Jacob looked surprised but kept his opinion to himself.  Miranda, on the other hand, tilted her head to the side, seeming mildly intrigued.  “So, this is still happening?”

Shepard sighed and patted Garrus’ chest. “Go call the Fleet, I’ll handle it down here.”  As he was leaving, he heard Shepard murmur, “Miranda, I wasn’t aware you were interested in my love life.  I can send you some vids if you’re into that.”

Garrus tried not to laugh but failed miserably.  And then he remembered the reason he was calling the Fleet and all humor died from his thoughts.  One of his closest friends had almost died -  _ might  _ die - and there was nothing he could do to make things better.

 

* * *

 

When he made it to Shepard’s room, she was already there, undressing beside the couch.  She slid her skinsuit off, standing in her underwear and looking like she was close to passing out.  She turned to look at him over her shoulder.  “How was the call?”

“Good,” Garrus murmured, moving to stand behind her, hooking her panties in his newly buffed talons, lowering to a crouch in order to slide them down her legs.  “Joker has the nav point and we’re heading there now.”

He took hold of her bra more gingerly, having slight problems with the clasps.  His large fingers, and talons, made the small hooks nearly impossible.  He somehow managed, though, and slid the lacy contraption over her shoulders and down her arms, letting it fall to the floor.

He knew she was tired, but seeing her skin there in front of him, feeling her under his hands… he lowered his mouth to her neck, nipping gently.  He slowly lowered himself into a crouch, trailing his mouth over her shoulder, her arm, the swell of her hip….

Shepard turned slowly, her sex right in front of his face.  Before he could delve in, she grabbed his chin and tilted it up to look at her.  “Garrus, I really need a shower,” she chuckled. “I’m so gross.”

“You’re never gross,” he replied, tongue flicking out between her folds.  Shepard groaned, eyelids fluttering.  She leaned into him and that was all the permission he needed.  He pressed his face into her, tongue sliding over her clit, curling around it, flicking against the sensitive nub.

He had only been enjoying her for a few minutes before she groaned and pulled out of his grasp, making him growl in annoyance.  She chuckled softly, tilting his chin up again.  “You’re incorrigible, Vakarian.  I need a shower.”

“I think you need to get on the bed,” he purred, pressing his face against her abdomen.

Shepard’s smirk was audible in her words as she pulled away from him and began walking toward the bathroom.  “How did the call go?”

She was trying to distract him - she’d already asked about the call.  Garrus was surprised she wasn’t aware of how hard it was to break a turian away from their metaphorical pray once they had it in their sights.

And right then, the way Shepard swayed her hips, the way her ass moved… she was definitely prey.

The shower turned on, the hot blast of water spilling from her finally returned showerhead.  It had reappeared the day after she and Garrus had gotten back together, almost like a prize.  Shepard had been too amused and thankful to give Kasumi and Thane a hard time - they had meant well, after all. 

When Garrus stalked into the small bathroom, Shepard’s eyes were closed and she was in the process of running her hands through her long, wet tangles of hair.  Garrus watched as her body extended with each stretch, how the water cascaded over her chest, little raindrops falling from her nipples to the tile she stood on.

Shepard opened her eyes and smirked at him.  Her eyes were dark, her pupils wide.  He could smell her arousal in spite of the water dampening everything.  Instead of telling him how much she wanted him, how much her body wanted him, she casually murmured, “The meeting went better than expected.”

Garrus began pulling off his civilian tunic and pants, letting them fall into a crumpled pile beside the door.  He stroked his hands across his abdominal plates, his cock sliding into view with very little provocation. 

“Everyone seems just as mad about the setup as I am,” she continued, but her voice was halting slightly, eyes dipping to his cock before remembering herself, remembering she was supposed to look unaffected. 

Garrus’ eyes never left her as he took off his gloves, tossing them on the sink.  He flexed the fingers, imagining the feeling of her skin beneath them.

Shepard must have been thinking along the same lines because her eyelids fluttered.  A sneaky smile twitched across her face and she turned, her back to him, and leaned down to grab her body wash from where it sat on the floor.  She pumped some of the gel into her hand, her hips wiggling as she did.

Garrus stepped into the shower with her, pressing himself against her ass, relishing the sharp intake of breath that slipped from Shepard’s mouth.  She stood slowly, making sure to rub against his cock as she did.  And then she turned toward him, smirking, and began running the gel over her body, the suds caressing her breasts, her arms, her abdomen.

Garrus wasn’t sure if it was the sudden scent of her exploding everywhere, the sweet vanilla, or if it was watching her hands slowly, sensually run over her body.  But whatever it was, Garrus felt his decorum fading quickly.

“You look torn,” Shepard murmured accurately, letting the water take the suds from her hands and body.  But then her fingers slipped into the folds Garrus had been ruminating on moments earlier.  She closed her eyes, letting out a soft cry as her fingers moved between her legs.  And then she opened her eyes, met his gaze, and then whispered, “You look like you’re thinking about the best way to eat me.”

“Something like that,” he returned.  His voice had dropped an octave and the sound of his subharmonics flanging made her shudder.

“Then get to it.”

Garrus crouched and shoved his face into her, making her fall back against the corner of the shower.  He wasn’t entirely pleased with the angle though, so he pulled back and ordered her, “Hold onto me.”

“What?” she chuckled, grabbing his shoulders.

Garrus grabbed her by the hips, sliding her up the wall until her legs wrapped around his neck.  She was panting at the sudden motion, her thighs tightening around his neck, one hand bracing against the wall, the other on his fringe.

Garrus held her against the wall sharply, his tongue exploring all of the slick nooks and crannies of her passage.  He had missed the soft, slick ridges of her against his tongue, his cock.  He had missed the small nub that brought her to trembling knees.  

He missed her enthusiasm.  Her utter willingness to let him dominate her, explore her.  Her willingness to let him be himself.

It only took about five minutes until she was shaking, her thighs wrapping around him tighter, her hand gripping at his fringe frantically.  He sped up, his tongue curling and restricting around her clit.  

And then she was gasping, her voice high and keening as she came. 

Garrus slowly licked at the thick wetness of her, letting her compose herself.  Her trembling began to subside, her breath slowly, and he reluctantly tilting his head away from the apex of her legs. “Are you going to stop me, or can I stay here a bit?”

Shepard smirked at him.  “As much as I adore that tongue, Vakarian, I was thinking of having something else between my thighs.”

Garrus nipped her thigh and she laughed.  He slowly lowered her to the tiles where she leaned heavily against the corner.  She was still weak-kneed which pleased Garrus more than it probably should have.  Even so, she was watching him with those eyes, as if daring him.  

Garrus stood and grabbed her waist, turning her around forcefully.  She moaned as her head pressed against the tile, tilting so she could smirk at him.  He pulled her into him, her back bowing, the line of her spine deepening between the slender muscles of her back.  She had a faint blush of scratch marks that he must have given her yesterday.  The sight of them made something dark and primal spark in his belly.

“Well?” Shepard breathed.  “Are you going to fuck me or stare at me?”

He leaned over her back to push her wet torrent of hair out of the way, biting her neck sharply.  Her breath hitched, and that was when he shoved himself inside of her.

Her noises were some of the most beautiful things he had ever heard.  He was actually able to hear her voice without the faint hum of his translator slightly distorting it.  He had always meant to upgrade to a better one, one of the top-of-the-line models, but after Shepard died… he hadn’t seen the point.

He thrust into her hard but slowly, gripping her sides in his hands, talons scraping against her skin. He watched as her cheek pressed against the wall, her lips parted as she groaned softly, her hips rocking back into him.

He never expected to be able to do this again - to feel this in control.  After Shepard died, he had assumed she would be the last person he would ever be with.  He had expected to die, after all.  But he didn’t die and he had ample opportunity to be with someone else on Omega.

He had actually tried to.  Just once.  A redheaded human, though her hair wasn’t nearly as vibrant and her eyes were a muddy brown.  It hadn’t worked out for either of them - he couldn’t get into it, couldn’t find the will to kiss her or have sex with her.  And she had left without a word.

The only similarity to Shepard was the way in which she departed.

But here she was, her body slick with water, red hair falling over her back in wet tendrils, her only visible green eye staring at him, hooded with desire.  

The sudden wave of awe crashed over him and he pulled out of her, making her mewl in displeasure.  “Garrus, what’s-”

He pulled her out of the shower and picked her up, carrying her, dripping wet, to the couch.  He laid her down on it, pulling her legs over the side and pressing himself back into her.  He slowed down, gently moving above her, watching her eyes.  Watching the understanding flit through them.

She smiled softly, her hands running over the rough plates of his arms, caressing the leathery skin in the small chinks of the plates.  Her body moved below his slowly, rhythmically, her legs raising to hook around his hips, fitting perfectly into the grooves.  

“I…” Garrus broke off, stunned that he was about to say that he loved her.  He had felt it for a long time, even when she was dead, even when they were separated.  But neither of them had said it - not from lack of feeling, at least on Garrus’ part.

There was something about those words that terrified him.

Shepard didn’t press him, but her smile twitched a little as if she knew what he was going to say.  Instead of speaking, she raised a hand to his cheek, softly caressing over his damaged mandible through the thick gauze covering it.

Garrus grunted, feeling his release begging to flood over him.  He leaned down into her, brushing his mouth against hers, nipping her collarbone gently, Her thighs tightened around his waist and her hands flitted to his shoulders, gripping them tightly in her small, soft hands.

Garrus came in a rush, panting into her chest, mandible clicking against his jaw as he tried to catch his breath.  He slumped there for a few minutes, breathing deeply into her skin while she caressed his face gently.

When he was finally able to stand, he did so gingerly.  The least attractive thing he could have done was to collapse on the floor.

Shepard sat up, regarding him with a faint smile.  “You should probably take an allergy tablet before your mouth catches fire.”

Garrus chuckled weakly.  “I already did.  One every morning at 0400.”

“I am still amazed you only need a few hours of sleep and can still outpace me in every way.”

Garrus picked her up, making her let out a faint _eep_ of surprise and took her back to the still-running shower.  “What can I say,” he murmured, placing her in the warm spray of water.  “We turians are superior in many ways.”

He gently ran his hand between her legs, watching her eyes close and her face screw up in pleasure.  “There’s only one thing you’re better at than me,” he purred, leaning in, breath fanning across her ear.

“What’s that?” she asked, shuddering as one of his fingers slid inside of her.

“Sex.”

She snorted, her eyes opening slowly.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s all that flexibility,” he murmured.

Shepard smirked, pushing his hand away from her.  She lowered herself to her knees in front of him, stroking her hand across the seam at his abdomen, grinning when his cock slid out eagerly.  “Well, you do have reach on your side,” she murmured, gazing longingly at his growing shaft while she ran her hand across the length of it.

“Reach isn’t everything.”

“Neither is flexibility,” she returned, and then her lips wrapped around him, running over the leathery, nubbed flesh as deeply as she could, her tongue sliding across the tip.

Garrus groaned caressing her head and wet hair with his hands.  

He hoped, and not for the first time, that Shepard would be the last one he ever did this with.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to enjoy this with anyone else, not like he did with her.


	10. Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Team," by Iggy Azalea.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KVGRN7Z7T1A) Please enjoy!

The Normandy’s rendezvous with the Migrant Fleet wasn’t on pleasant terms, but it was made even more difficult by the fact that some of the fleet didn’t want Tali there.

“Tali’Zorah vas Normandy has committed high treason,” Captain Kar’Danna informed them, tone sharp.  “She is to be tried and cast out if found guilty.”

Shepard’s temper flared as she looked at Garrus, then Grunt, then the incubator behind them.  She turned her attention back to Danna, eyebrows furrowing.  “Excuse me?  Treason?   _ Tali? _  You know what, never mind, it doesn’t fucking matter.  Tali can’t stand trial while she’s fighting for her life in our med bay.”

Admiral Shala’Raan chose that moment to greet them, sounding apologetic.  “Commander Shepard, it is good to finally meet you.  Tali has told us much about you and your crew.  I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

“What’s going on?” Shepard sighed, running a hand through her hair.  “Tali’s sick, the infection is taking over her body and our doctor can’t reduce the fever.  I really need your medics to take her and make her better or she won’t be able to be present for a trial because she’ll be dead.”

“Of course,” Raan said simply, waving two nearby guards.  “Take Tali’Zorah vas Normandy to the medical suite.  Ensure she receives proper care.”

The guards did as they were bidden quickly and quietly.  Shepard watched as the incubator rolled away and felt something like panic take hold of her.  She had expected Tali to be much safer here on the flotilla, but there were a lot of harsh tones floating around them.  Words that cited treason.

“What’s happened here?” Garrus asked Raan.

The woman sighed and put a hand absently to her mask.  “One of our research vessels was attacked by geth.  From the inside.  It seems that Tali’Zorah vas Normandy has been sending active geth to her father’s ship, the Alarei.  It was the Alarei that fell two nights ago.”

Shepard sighed, glancing back at Grunt and Garrus.  “What if we went to the Alarei?  Found proof that Tali didn’t do anything?”

“That would be much appreciated, Commander,” Raan breathed.  “I could assemble the other Admirals if you would like to speak with them before embarking.”

“No,” Shepard murmured.  “If you could get us a shuttle, though, it would be appreciated.”

“Hold here a moment,” Raan replied.  “I will retrieve a pilot and shuttle for you.  And Shepard… do be careful.  From the last reports we received from the Alarei, it seems as though there were more than active geth pieces.  There are over three dozen fully functional geth on board.”

“Great,” Shepard murmured.  “Exactly what I hoped to be doing tonight.”

But even though she complained, Garrus could see the determination on her face.  She was going to clear Tali’s name if it was the last thing she did.

 

* * *

 

“Rael’Zorah was the one activating them?” Gerrel breathed, sounding unconvinced, watching Shepard closely.  “Do you have proof of this?”

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back into the chair.  She felt naked without Garrus and Grunt beside her, but she was asked - as Tali’s captain - to enter the Admiralty Chambers alone with only the data she collected on the Alarei.

And so she did - not because she wanted to, but because she was determined to give Tali the best chance at getting out of this nonsense.  It seemed as though playing along was one of the easiest ways to do so.

“I shouldn’t need proof,” Shepard said curtly.  “Tali has been a great asset to your people - she was one of the few who stood against the reapers and Saren on the Citadel two years ago.  She has served diligently for your flotilla, your fleet.  And in addition to that, she risks her life every day to help me, _ a human Spectre, _ to stop the collector and reaper threat.  How can you charge her for something so obviously against her nature?  She is more intelligent than most people I know, myself included.  And I, even with no personal history with the geth, would _ never, ever _ send an active piece of geth tech anywhere.  She couldn’t have done this.  She loves her people too much.  And if you knew her, you would know that.”

Admiral Daro’Xen cleared her throat and folded her fingers in front of her.  “You speak well for one of our daughters, Commander.  It is refreshing to hear such praise from an outsider.  I, for one, am not concerned that Tali sent parts for her father’s research.  The one concern I have is if they were active.  Do you have proof that they were not active when they arrived at the Alarei?”

Shepard sighed and sent the files to their omni-tools, sitting impatiently while they all viewed the files.  Raan was the first to speak.

“It seems obvious that Commander Shepard has told us the truth.  Tali’Zorah was not responsible for this, as her own father admitted before his death.  Are all in agreement?”

“Aye,” they all agreed with varying degrees of approval.  

“I, for one, am glad that Tali’Zorah has proven to be smarter than her father,” Koris mumbled.

“You sniveling little-” Gerrel snarled, getting to his feet.  He looked as though he was going to cross the table and attack Koris.

“Enough,” Xen interrupted.  “We will respect the dead and learn from their mistakes.  Obviously, we should ensure no one is doing unsanctioned research, especially when it involved bringing unshackled geth online.  As far as I am aware, I am the only one who had been given permission to do so, and so we must ensure that is respected among our ranks.”

“Yeah, because you’re impervious to mistakes,” Shepard muttered darkly, getting to her feet.  “I assume you will absolve Tali of all of this?”

“Of course, Tali’Zorah’s name will be expunged and she will be given her ship name again,” Raan said, sounding much more pleased than the rest of the Board.  “Thank you for bringing her here, Commander.  Our doctors say she will live, but it might take weeks for her to be fully functional again.”

Shepard nodded.  “Thank you for the update.  Please have her send me a vidcomm when she’s ready.  And… I know my opinion doesn’t matter around here, but it would be in your best interest to maintain a good relationship with Tali.  As far as I can tell, she’s the quarian with the most to give.  To the galaxy and to your people.  Who knows… she might be where you’re sitting one day.”

The admirals watched her in silence before Xen murmured, “We will take what you say to heart, Commander Shepard.  And we will be gentle with Tali when she wakes.  Losing a father is never easy and she deserves our respect and time to grieve.”

“We will,” Gerrel said, nodding.  “I was her father’s closest friend, Shepard.  We will make sure the news is imparted carefully.”

“Thank you for doing this for us,” Koris said shortly, though his tone was softer than before.  “For Tali.  She is young and reckless, but… her heart is in the right place.”

Shepard left for the docking bay without another word, not sure her anger could be withheld for much longer.  She couldn’t lose her cool around the admirals in case they decided to take it out on Tali.  And Tali needed them almost as much as they needed her.  She loved her people - Shepard wasn't going to make things more difficult for her.

 

* * *

 

The Reaper IFF had taken more effort than Garrus had expected.  In fact, he was somehow convinced that this mission would be the one to break the vicious cycle of things being more difficult than they seemed.

_ “Empty reaper dreadnought, _ he said,” Garrus grumbled, wincing as Chakwas pulled a slug from his shoulder.   _ “Cerberus saw no geth activity while they were there,  _ he said.”

“And we, for whatever reason, believed him,” Shepard mused, rubbing her recently re-located elbow.  

“He probably didn’t know it was the geth,” Miranda injected from where she was leaning against the wall, completely unharmed.  After a pause, she pursed her lips.  “On the other hand, he might just be the biggest asshole I’ve ever known, so… perhaps he did know.”

“I really hope I get to shoot him at some point,” Shepard groused.

“Are you just saying that because you’re in pain, or do you actually feel it?” Chakwas asked absently, moving down to Garrus’ hip to remove another bullet.  Garrus was trying very hard to ignore the fact that Miranda was openly staring at his naked form, looking slightly intrigued and slightly off-put.

“I really, really feel it,” Shepard was saying.  “But I’m also in pain.  Can I get another medi-gel-”

“Not unless you want to pass out and sleep for two days straight,” Chakwas replied, glancing over at her.  “Just be sure to gently massage it and be careful for the next few days.”  She glanced between Garrus and Shepard before adding, “And don’t put your full weight on it.  Missionary for a few days at least, none of this intensive sex I keep hearing about, understand?”

Shepard’s face turned a startling red and her eyes closed, eyelashes dusting across her cheeks.  Miranda smirked and murmured, “Well, the night crew will probably be pleased to hear that.”

“According to Kasumi and Thane, our sex is incredibly hot sounding,” Garrus informed her.

“Oh God, just stop talking,” Shepard breathed, making Garrus, Miranda, and Chakwas chuckle.  There was nothing the crew liked more than ganging up on Shepard.

Not that Shepard minded, really.  She realized they did so out of love.  So she grinned and shook her head, saying, “It’s not like missionary would stop us from being enthusiastic, Chakwas.”

“I hadn’t even dreamed that it would,” Chakwas replied, yanking the final bullet from Garrus’ thigh.  “I just hoped, really.  Hearing the details every morning from ensigns over breakfast has begun to wear on my old brain, for some reason.”  She looked at Shepard pointedly. 

“You’re not old, Karin,” Shepard returned smoothly.  “I bet Garrus knows some stately turians he could hook you up with.”

“Tons,” Garrus confirmed.

Chakwas chuckled before glancing between Garrus’ legs.  “I was always curious about the retractable penises.”  Miranda put a finger to her lower lip as if everything suddenly made more sense.

It was Garrus’ turn to clear his throat awkwardly, shifting on the bed.  “Can I get dressed now?”

“I wasn’t the one who asked you to take your pants off, Garrus,” Chakwas smirked.  “I could have handled everything just by rolling them up and down.” 

Shepard laughed, watching Garrus pull his pants on, grumbling.  

“So, the geth in the AI Core next door?  What are your plans?” Miranda asked, changing the subject much to Garrus’ relief. 

Shepard shrugged and then winced. “I’ll wait until my elbow’s on the mend before bringing it online.”

“Good plan,” Garrus mused.  “Last time you woke up something you shouldn’t have, he tried forcing your head through the bulkhead.”

“Hey, Grunt didn’t know any better.”

“Grunt didn’t know you were his mother yet,” Chakwas chuckled.

At that, Miranda departed with the widest smile Shepard had ever seen on her face, waving a quick goodbye to them.

“Come on, big guy,” Shepard said as she slid off the cot she had been waiting on.  “I think you have some doors to open for me.  Can’t tire this elbow out or it will explode or something.”

Chakwas was chirping with laughter as they left the med bay.

When they got to the elevator, Garrus’ talon hovered over the button for Shepard’s cabin but she swatted it away.  “I need to see Mordin really quick.  Wanna come with?”

Garrus would have cocked an eyebrow if he had one.  Instead, his good mandible flared wide before clattering against his face.  “What do you need to see Mordin about?”

“Allergy tablets,” she replied easily, making him chuckle.

“Well, in that case, I will come along.”  He thumbed the CIC button and murmured, “Wouldn’t it be easier if we didn’t need these allergy pills?”

“Well, it _would,_ but it would also mean we’d die from anaphylactic shock,” Shepard said, shrugging.  “Nightly tablets is way better than that.” 

Even so, when they arrived at Mordin’s lab Garrus asked, “Mordin is there anything simpler we could do?  Less contingent on us remembering to take them at the same time daily?”

Shepard raised an eyebrow at him.  “Is remembering to take it that big of a deal?”

Mordin, however, saved Garrus from responding.  “Why, yes.  There are always options. Implant would be most successful long term.  Can insert any time. Quick, minor procedure.  Cleared back to duty after six hours.  Eight tops.”

Shepard gaped at him.  “You mean this was an option all along?  Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Mordin looked between them before responding honestly, “Didn’t think this was regular occurrence.  Thought stress of command brought you together.  Humans and turians both seek sexual relations when under duress.  Implant lasts four years. Hadn’t anticipated need for long-term solution until now.”

Shepard made a face but realized she couldn’t argue with his logic.  “Well, I want the implant.”

“I’ll take one, too,” Garrus said.

“Will meet you in Med Bay in five - no, ten - minutes.  More room there to cut into arms.”

Shepard blinked.  “Cut into…?  How big are these implants?”

“Sixteen centimeters.  Slender though.  Barely feel it once it is there.”

Shepard and Garrus exchanged glances.  Whereas Garrus wasn’t too concerned with it, Shepard was massaging her bicep as if she was going to lose it.  

“Okay,” Shepard breathed.  “We’ll see you in ten minutes.”


	11. Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I swear!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Tonight, Tonight," by The Smashing Pumpkins.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOG3eus4ZSo) Enjoy!

“Tali isn’t going to like this,” Garrus murmured, not for the first time. 

Shepard shrugged, but she was biting her lower lip, looking at her locker, seeming distracted.  “Tali might not even be well enough to come back aboard before….”  She trailed off.  She didn’t want to say  _ before the Omega-4 Relay jump.  Before the suicide mission. _

She had become less interested in calling it that recently.  Garrus had noticed worry start to creep into her, showing on the way her brows would furrow and how she picked at the skin around her nails when she was thinking deeply.

The turians had an old saying.   _ In the place where the ocean finally meets the sky, there is where all beginnings end. _

And that was what he was reminded of when he watched Shepard stare into the distance morosely.  It was as if she was seeing the place where the water and sky met, she was seeing their ending, and she was hopeless to stop it.

“Shepard,” Garrus began softly, startling her out of her thoughts.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, wringing her hands together. “We should get suited up.  We’ve got to be close to the geth ship by now.”

As if sensing his cue, Joker’s voice crackled over the comm.  “ETA 5 minutes to Heretic Station, Shepard.”

“Thanks, Joker,” Shepard replied, opening her locker to pull her armor out.

Garrus grabbed her arm, stopping her, and pulled her into him.  He pressed his faceplates into her hair, his attempt at kissing the top of her head. Her arms wrapped around him without hesitation, holding him as if he was the last real thing she knew.

“We’ll be fine,” Garrus murmured.

Shepard chuckled softly.  “Of course we will.  We’re Shepard and Vakarian.”

“Damn right,” Garrus murmured, voice flanging.  “And your crew is going to make it, too, because you’re Commander Shepard, the best damn CO and rallying cry the galaxy, hell,  _ the universe,  _ has ever known.”

Shepard was laughing at his lofty praise, but she didn’t point out that he was exaggerating heavily or that he had no idea about the universe - no one really did.  Instead, she pulled back to smile at him, her eyes brighter than they had been in days.

“I don’t know how I could be doing this without you,” she admitted.

“You’d be doing fine,” he murmured, caressing a hand over the neoprene arms of her skinsuit.  “You’d be kicking ass like always.  Maybe not as stylishly,” he added just to see her smile.

And smile she did.  She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his chin and then his mouth.  “Thanks, Vakarian.”

“Anything for you, Shepard.”  

“Shepard-Commander.”

Shepard jumped at the metallic noise that came from behind her.  She turned around and Garrus reluctantly removed his hands from her.  “Legion.  You ready for this?”

“Confirmed.  Be advised that the ship has limited gravitation and no oxygen.  Please refrain from removing protective gear and magboots.”

“This isn’t our first rodeo, Legion,” Shepard murmured.  “We won’t take anything off.”

Garrus glanced at her peculiarly.  “Our first what?”

Shepard sighed softly.  “Rodeo.  It’s a weird Earth thing, don’t worry about it.”

“Rodeo,” Legion intoned.  “A contest in which riding untrained horses, roping calves, and wrestling steers is watched and encouraged by many southwestern United States of America cultures.  Some instances of rodeos are still found in Mexico.  There has also been an increased interest in a new rodeo on Khar’Shan involving riding and roping wild yahg.”

Shepard screwed her face up.  “What?  Seriously?”

“We do not wish to deceive you, Shepard-Commander.”

“I think they’ll discover the error in their ways pretty quickly,” Garrus replied.  “I saw you and Liara after that fight with the former Shadow Broker… I can’t imagine the batarians will last long in that particular sport.”

Shepard shook her head, still looking astounded, and began to pull on her armor, deftly clicking the pieces into place and tightening the straps along the seams.

Garrus had always found something sensual about her routine of slipping into her armor.  Her fingers moved deftly but lovingly over each piece.  He wasn’t sure if it was just because he enjoyed watching her, no matter what she was doing, or if it was because there was something oddly appealing about her in armor.  She looked so small but so fierce in her dark blue and mottled black armor, the N7 logo small but bright above her right breast.  Above the spot where he had marked her.

Shepard glanced up and caught him staring at her.  She smirked but said nothing, sliding her gloves on and then her helmet.  Garrus heard it click into place, but even so, she reached up to wiggle it, making sure it was sealed.  She reached behind her head, feeling the supply lines, checking for leaks.

It was a new ritual, something she did every time before a mission since her arrival back into the land of the living.  Garrus couldn’t imagine the faint fear of suffocation was bouncing around her mind daily, nightly.  She hadn’t been having as many nightmares recently, but they still crept up sometimes.  She still woke up gasping, clawing at her throat, causing deep red furrows on her skin.

A few crewmates had noticed the marks and smirked, assuming it was Garrus’ doing.  But if they had looked a bit closer, they would have realized there were too many marks, too perfectly spaced, to be from his hands.

Garrus pulled his helmet on, hearing it click.  He also wiggled his helmet and checked his supply lines, just in case she was concerned about showing this particular weakness.  Just in case she was concerned someone might notice the overly cautious behavior.

Garrus couldn’t tell if Shepard noticed his actions and she didn’t say anything about it.  

“ETA one minute, thirty seconds,” Joker informed them.  He sounded nervous.  “Can you guys get up here?  I get that they don’t have windows or whatever, but I’d like to not be around in case they upgraded to some skylights or something.”

“On our way, Joker,” Shepard breathed.  To Garrus and Legion, she asked, “Ready?”

“Affirmative, Shepard-Commander.”

“Always.”

Shepard nodded, took a deep breath, and then murmured.  “Alright.  Let’s get up to the airlock and do this before Joker has a heart attack.”

 

* * *

 

Garrus could tell that Shepard was worried about re-writing the geth.  She had thought about the proposal throughout the entire mission on the Heretic Station, but she had kept mostly quiet until they were standing in front of the geth console.

“Re-write them,” she murmured softly.

“Are you sure, Shepard-Commander?” Legion had asked.  “Once done, we cannot change the outcome.”

Shepard had glanced over at Garrus but Garrus had nothing to offer her.  He relied on her decision making.  Perhaps it was because of his military background, being told not to question commanding officers.  He didn’t think so, though.  His military background had never stopped him from having an opinion or backbone before.

He had a feeling it was simply because he trusted Shepard more than he trusted himself in these situations.  His emotions ran too hot to make snap decisions like these.

“Do it,” Shepard said.

“We suggest we retreat to your ship immediately,” Legion said blankly.  “There will be an EMP charge that will kill any organic on the ship.  We will have approximately three minutes.”

“An EMP?” Garrus repeated.

“Affirmative.  It is required for the re-write.”

Garrus growled something dark that Shepard didn’t catch.  

“It would have been nice to know this beforehand,” Shepard said blankly, pulling her gun out.  “I assume there will be hostiles?”

“Affirmative.”

Shepard sighed.  “Alright.  Get ready to run.”

They had made it back to the Normandy with time to spare, of course.  It had helped that they were all tech-based and a perfect geth-killing team, but Garrus tried not to let that detract from his pride in how easily they escaped. 

For once, a mission had gone smoothly.   _ Relatively  _ smoothly.

“I think today is going to be a good day,” Garrus hummed as they took off their armor.

Shepard snorted.  “The day’s almost over, Vakarian.  What more do you think will happen?”

Garrus chuckled and moved behind Shepard, unzipping her skinsuit for her, watching the neoprene split and give way to milky flesh.  “Well, I was thinking we could go upstairs to the nice big cabin of yours and figure that out.”

Shepard turned to him, smirking, and murmured, “You’re brilliant sometimes, you know that?”

Garrus had been about to lean in to brush his mouth across her lips, but the comm flickered on right then.  

EDI, always one for untimely interruptions, said, “Shepard, there is an incoming vidcomm from the quarian fleet.  I am patching it through to the meeting room.”

Shepard’s face contorted in concern.  They hadn’t heard anything from the Migrant Fleet in about a week and the last update was that Tali’s fever had worsened.  “Oh God,” Shepard groaned.  “She can’t be dead, right?  This isn’t… this isn’t that.  Right?”

Garrus rubbed her shoulder and couldn’t find the words to reply.  She had been badly injured and exposed to a collector ship for over an hour.  The prognosis hadn’t looked good when she was in their med bay.  The only hope she had was with her own people.

“Get dressed.  I’ll go with you.”

Shepard nodded, looking grateful, and finished peeling her skinsuit off, sliding into a pair of leggings and an N7 sweatshirt.  

The pair practically ran the entire way to the meeting room, startling Jacob as they rushed through the armory.

When they arrived, Tali’Zorah herself was standing there, outlined in a flickering blue glow.  Shepard practically stumbled onto the holopad, Garrus following her onto the platform, looping his arm discreetly around her waist.

Tali’s head whipped up and her hand-wringing turned into excitement.  “Keelah, it’s good to see you both.  I was worried you had gone through the relay without me.”

“Never,” Shepard breathed.  “How are you?”

“Perfect health again,” she chuckled, sounding slightly embarrassed.  “I… thank you.  For taking the time to bring me here.  Our doctors mentioned Chakwas did a good job keeping the infection to a minimum.  I would like to thank her if… if you’re able to meet me somewhere.”

“Of course,” Shepard said quickly.  “We’re actually close by, we should be able to get to the Rayya tomorrow.”

Tali’s breath hitched.  “So close?  Where are you?”

Shepard realized too late that this was leading to a conversation that was probably best had in person.  At the same time, warning her about the geth aboard the Normandy was probably the best course of action.  “Uh… we’re actually in Pheonix Massing.  We just… we just got off of the Heretic Station… Haratar,” she clarified.

Shepard wasn’t sure through the grainy, less-than-quality quarian vidcomm, but she thought she saw Tali’s eyes turn to slits.  “Why?  Did you… did you destroy it?”

Shepard sighed.  “No, Tali.  We rewrote the geth.  They’re on our side now.”

Tali sputtered for a few moments before, rightly so, demanding, “What?!  What does that even… Shepard, the geth are dangerous!  The geth just killed my father!  I-” she interrupted herself.  “Why did you do it?  How did you even think to do it?”

Shepard bit her lower lip, steeling herself.  “We found a geth who… it’s different, Tali.  It’s been helping us.  It’s wearing my old armor, which is creepy in a way but… for some reason, it’s trying to help us and help the geth, get them out of the reapers’ control.”

Tali was silent, staring at them through the link.  “Garrus, is this true?”

“It is,” he confirmed.  “Tali, Shepard’s right.  I’ve fought beside it.  It’s not a danger to us.  It had ample opportunity to kill us, but it’s been nothing short of helpful.”

Tali sighed, running a hand over her hood and down her mask.

“Do you still want to come along?” Shepard asked hesitantly.  “I’d understand if-”

“Of course I am still coming along,” Tali interjected hotly.  And then she swallowed, shaking her head.  “I am sorry, Shepard.  This is just… it is a lot to process.  I will alert the others that you will be here tomorrow and await your return.”

“Tali-”

“Don’t worry about me, Shepard,” Tali said softly.  “I will… ruminate on this. You both trust it, and I trust you, so… we will see.”

“You sure we’re good?” Shepard asked.

Tali nodded.  “I am sure, Shepard.  Oh,” she added, her voice sounding like a mix between pleased and pained, “I’m glad to see you two worked out your differences.  You look good together.”

Evidently she had noticed his hand on Shepard’s hip.  Garrus checked the urge to pull away, concerned at the hint of something negative in Tali’s tone.

Shepard seemed to notice it, too, because she was suddenly even more uncomfortable than before.  “Thanks, Tali.  We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The vidcomm disconnected immediately and Shepard and Garrus were left standing there, befuddled.

“Does she…” Shepard began, turning to look up at Garrus.  “Was there ever anything…?”

“Spirits, no,” Garrus breathed.  “If she felt something for me, I never noticed.”

Shepard made a humming noise in the back of her throat, shaking her head.  “EDI, can you tell Joker to get us to the Migrant Fleet as soon as possible?”

“Of course, Shepard.”

Shepard glanced at Garrus.  “I think I remember talk of going upstairs and ending this day right?”

Garrus chuckled, trying to shake off Tali’s tone from his mind.  “I thought you’d never ask.”  He took her hand in his, caressing it gently with his talons, before leading her to her cabin.

 

* * *

 

The next day was a flurry of activity.

When the Normandy docked with the Rayya, Tali and Kal’Reegar were waiting on the other end of the docking tube.  Shepard had crossed alone, not wanting to overwhelm the quarian with well-wishers.  There would be plenty of time for that when she was on board.

Shepard was surprised when she found Tali wrapping her arms around Reegar, pressing her mask against his.

“Be safe,” he murmured to her.

“I will,” she returned softly.  Their fingers lingered on one another as Tali slowly pulled away.  She turned to Shepard and Shepard could tell the girl was trying not to cry.  Her voice was thick as she said, “I’d like to meet this geth of yours before we leave.”

“Of course,” Shepard agreed.  She waved a wordless goodbye to Reegar and then led Tali back to the Normandy.  She wanted to ask about the sudden romance that seemed to have blossomed overnight, but she knew better than to press Tali. The woman was sweetness incarnate… until she wasn’t.

The stand-off between Tali and Legion was anti-climactic.  They spoke, Tali’s tone slowly fading from harsh to hesitantly accepting.  Legion, as always, sounded as if it was reading from a medical journal.

“Creator Tali’Zorah,” Legion began as Shepard and Tali turned to leave him.  

Tali looked over her shoulder, watching him.

“We understand this is uncomfortable and strained for all involved on this ship,” it began.  “We wished to impart our appreciation that you have been willing to speak with us.  If it is at all possible, would you be willing to give us some information on the Creators?  Even non-essentials would be helpful for us to update our databanks.”

Tali was silent for so long that Shepard began to worry she was going to shoot him for asking.  Tali finally sighed, fingers flitting across the edge of her mask as she thought.  “I will think about it, Legion.”

Legion bobbed his optic lens.  “Thank you, Creator Tali’Zorah.  We look forward to learning from you.”

Tali said nothing as she left the AI Core.  Shepard followed her hesitantly, waiting for the anger to rush out.  But the anger never came.  “You were right,” she admitted.  “It is different than anything I expected.”

Shepard knew that was the closest thing she would get to acceptance from Tali when it came to Legion.  Shepard smiled and took it as a victory.

 

* * *

 

EDI had assured Shepard that the IFF had been analyzed and was ready to be incorporated into the Normandy’s systems.  She had advised the majority of the crew should have a shore leave to give her and the engineers time to install the upgrades.

“Just a skeleton crew is required,” she said, making Joker groan.

“Let me guess, I’m gonna be one of those skeletons.”

“Yes,” EDI replied unnecessarily.  

Shepard clapped Joker on the shoulder.  “Tough luck being the best damn pilot in the galaxy.  Don’t worry, I’ll send some food and drinks up.”

“What about the dancing?  Will you send that up, too?” he groused.

Shepard cocked an eyebrow at him.  “You dance, Joker?”

Joker rolled his eyes, flipping through the catalog of star charts as if he was actually doing something productive.  “I don’t dance, but dancers dance and I like watching them.”

Shepard snorted and left the cockpit so Joker could bemoan his fate alone.

She had been in her cabin the rest of the day, sending extranet messages and preparing for their trip to the Citadel.  Their last shore leave before the Omega-4 Relay.  She wasn’t sure she’d even be able to enjoy the shore leave with what was hanging over their heads like a black cloud.

The suicide mission. It was finally happening and Shepard knew she wasn’t ready for it.

She’d already died once.  She didn’t want to do it again.

Her omni-tool lit up with a ping from Miranda.

_ Lawson, M: Shepard, I need your assistance in the mess immediately. _

Shepard thought to ask what it was but then realized that would be exceedingly lazy.  It wasn’t like she was doing anything particularly useful and Garrus was holed up somewhere else - possibly the main battery, making sure his Thanix upgrades were perfect.

Shepard sighed as the elevator spirited her downstairs.

The first thing she noticed when the elevator doors opened was the smell.  It was like she had been transported to the restaurant she had eaten at in Seattle, sitting across from Garrus, surrounded by decadent foods.  

The second thing she noticed as she passed the partition was that her entire ground team was there, waiting for her.

“Surprise!” Kasumi exclaimed, lifting a glass of champagne and hanging onto Thane’s waist.  She looked as if she’d already polished off a few glasses.

“What is this?” Shepard asked, looking between all of them.

And then at the food.  The mess tables were laden with meats and sweets, the smorgasbord making no real sense together, but it all looked divine.  “How?” she asked, confused and amazed.

“We’ve been cooking all day, all of our favorites,” Miranda said, tilting her head to the side and holding her champagne like a scepter.  “Grunt even helped… or, tried to.”

“I burned the meatloaf,” he admitted, though he didn’t look too upset about it.

Shepard wasn’t sure why, but she felt her eyes misting.  “You guys,” she whispered, shaking her head.  “This is… this is _ amazing.” _

Garrus broke from the crowd, bringing her a glass of champagne and nuzzling his face into her hair.  “You don't remember what today is, do you? On Earth, I mean.”

Shepard scanned through her brain.  April eleventh.

Shepard covered her face with her free hand, trying very hard not to cry.

“Happy birthday, Shepard,” Garrus murmured into her ear, his mandible swiping her hair back from her face.

“How did you guys know?” she breathed.  “I mean… I never celebrate-”

“It was all over the feeds when you… died,” Jacob finished lamely, looking awkward at bringing it up.  “Everyone knows.”

“I don’t celebrate, either, Shepard,” Jack spoke up from where she was already sitting at the table, eyeing the selection.  “But this is kind of like… a dual thing.  Your birthday and our last supper together.”

Legion made a strange metallic noise.  “The Christian Bible’s story of the Last Supper seems like an appropriate correlation.”

Shepard didn’t point out that it wouldn’t be their last supper, that they still had shore leave.  But Jack was right - this would more than likely be their last supper as a crew.  She cleared her throat, trying to sound joyful as she said, “EDI, could you get some music going?  And tell Joker to limp his ass down here and get some food.”

 

* * *

 

The party began winding down well after midnight.  Shepard had eaten more food than she ever had in her life and then cut the cake - unevenly to everyone’s teasing delight - and she had drunk more than she should have.

The rest of the crew had been invited down in shifts to eat and socialize with the commander, all of them wishing her a happy birthday with admiration on their lips.  It was odd for Shepard, suddenly having so many people caring about something as insignificant as the day she was born.  

She hadn’t ever anticipated anyone caring enough about her to celebrate her.  Her childhood hadn’t given much room for hope.  Yet, here she was - surrounded by people who loved her, who admired her, who wanted her to succeed.

It was terrifying and it was moving all in one moment.

She and Garrus sat on one of the tabletops, their feet on the bench.  Garrus was still nibbling on some kind of odd dextro fruit dish Thane had made.  Garrus had complimented Thane on his culinary prowess, to which Thane had shrugged.  “I have pretended to be many people,” was all he said on the matter.  

Shepard had thought about getting another slice of the massive cake Kasumi, Samara, and Jacob had made her, but she was sure she was already about to burst the band on her stretchy leggings.  She patted her stomach and groaned a little.

“I ate too much,” she moaned.

Samara smiled from where she was sitting on the mess counter, legs folded beneath her.  “You are too thin as it is, Shepard.”

“Look who’s talking,” Shepard chuckled.  “What I wouldn’t give for your proportions.”

Garrus made a noise of disquiet at the statement which only made Shepard smile, bumping his arms with hers.  Samara laughed softly, running a hand over her flat stomach.  “Shepard, you are a beautiful woman and I admire everything about you.”

“Can’t argue with that kind of compliment,” Jack interjected from where she was laying on the bench beside them, hand on her stomach.  

“Drunk, Jack?”

“Nah,” she replied.  “Overcharged biotic amp, can’t get wasted.  But I can tell you that the biotic amp does nothin’ for eating too much.”

Miranda snorted from where she had gracelessly flopped on the opposite bench.  “You’re about to bust out of that tiny strap you call a shirt.”

“Make another joke, cheerleader.  I might have to get up and teach you a lesson.”  Even so, the threat held no weight and Miranda only chuckled softly.

The others had gone to bed, fueled by too much drink or food, leaving the five to sit and lay in their own thoughts.  EDI had since turned the music to a soft hum, leaving the crew contemplatively silent.

“What did you most want for your birthday, Shepard?” Samara asked softly.  “At any point in your life?”

Shepard didn’t even have to think about it.  “A family,” she said simply.  “People I loved.  People who loved me.”

Garrus tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her into him.  

“I think you’ve found it, Shepard,” Miranda mused.

Shepard swallowed, her throat suddenly clogged with emotion.  “Yeah,” she whispered.  “Yeah, I think I did.”


	12. Lazaretto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> This chapter's title song is ["Lazaretto," by Jack White.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qI-95cTMeLM) Please enjoy!

Garrus was more excited for the shore leave than he knew he should have been.  The crew was abuzz in excitement to get some real food and say their goodbyes to family in the comfort of their homes or hotels.  They had been taking shuttles down to the Citadel, allowing the Normandy to do her upgrades at a safe distance in case there was a problem with the installation.

Garrus had no such plans for his shore leave.  He wasn’t going to call his father or sister. He wasn’t going to check on how his mother was doing.  He was simply going to take Shepard to dinner and enjoy watching her smile while he could.

Shepard’s mood had shifted on the trip to the Citadel.  She was becoming quieter - her Commander Shepard facade was raised more often that it wasn’t.

She was thinking about them dying.  The crew.  Him.  Her.

She had told him - one night long ago while she helped him work on the Mako - that she wasn’t scared of dying.  She wasn’t worried about herself when she went into the field.  It was her men she thought of and would protect above all else.

She had also told him that all N7’s knew sacrifice, either self-sacrifice or their men’s deaths to further the goal.  Garrus hadn’t asked her which she thought she was.  He hadn’t needed to.  Her Star of Terra said more than he or Shepard ever could.  She was a goddamn war hero - she had single-handedly defended colonists with no fear of her own death.

In spite of her past, in spite of her childhood of begging and scraping, stealing and almost killing… she had become something more than any human ever could.  She had become something more than anyone ever could.

_ Humble beginnings,  _ the news reports had said after her death.  Humble beginnings that they could never even fathom.  Humble beginnings that had been sealed away the moment she joined the Alliance Navy.  

When they docked at the Citadel, Garrus took Shepard’s hand and tried to lead her away from her terminal.  She grunted something about needing to finish a report, but Garrus picked her up out of her chair and carried her over to her wardrobe’s display.  “Pick something to wear,” he said.

Shepard sighed and looked up at him.  She looked especially small in his arms, face pressing against his cowl.  “Where are you planning on taking me when you kidnap me?”

“A seedy warehouse where I can ravage your flesh for hours and no one can hear you scream,” he answered, leaning down to nip her forehead.

She snorted back her laughter and swiped through the console.  “Seriously, where are we going?  I can’t pick something out if I don’t know that.”

“Let’s just say… I found a fancy rotating restaurant on the Citadel.”

Shepard’s eyes widened.  “For real?”

“For real,” he confirmed, setting her down on her feet.  “I’m curious to see who did it better - Seattle or the Citadel.”

“Seattle,” she answered easily, selecting a clothing option.  A cabinet popped out from the baseboard, sliding open smoothly to display the neatly folded, all-black clothing inside.

“I still need to change. I’ll wait for you at the skycar terminal,” Garrus murmured, moving toward the elevator.  “Don’t be late, Shepard.”

“I never am, Vakarian,” she replied, but she seemed distracted with grabbing a slip of black cloth from the drawer.

 

* * *

 

Garrus couldn’t stop staring.

He could tell Shepard was slightly embarrassed, but mostly pleased, with his attentions.  Her pale cheeks kept turning a dusty rose each time she caught him ogling her.

“You look… fantastic,” Garrus said again.  

Shepard smirked at him, picking up her wine glass and sipping from it.  She had to admit, Kasumi had really forced her to step up her clothing game.  She would have never purchased such an impractical, revealing dress on her own.

And revealing it was.  Shepard still wasn’t sure what kind of material it was, but the strapless, floor-length dress had a deep v-back, a cutout over her flat stomach, and a cinched waist.  Shepard had always hated her silhouette in military fatigues, how shapeless she seemed.  This dress, though… something about the dress accented the sharp slope between her ribs and hips, making her feel curvier, more desirable than she had in months.

She knew the clothing didn’t make her beautiful - she knew she was already amply blessed in that department.  But even so, sometimes clothing did a number for her confidence. 

“Thanks, babe,” she returned easily, albeit belatedly.  “You clean up pretty well, yourself.”

“This old thing?” he asked, brushing a gloved hand across the black threads of his civilian clothes.  The black was accented with blue, a similar shade to Garrus’ clan markings.  “I just bought it.  Kinda hoped you’d like it.”

“I love it,” she smiled.  She watched him pick at imaginary lint on his shirt and couldn’t help the swell of emotions she had for him.  He was a geek, he was awkward, and he was entirely too adorable to stand sometimes.

And a smooth talker.  And amazing in bed.

_ And that voice. _

Her smile widened.  “Tell me something.” 

Garrus blinked, not understanding.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she murmured, leaning over the small table slightly to watch his face.

He knew the look in her eyes - the slightly darker iris color, the way her pupils were wider, darker, almost like pools of ink.  Something was arousing her and, given their current location and the decided lack of other people nearby, Garrus was pretty sure it was him.

“Something you don’t know?” he asked, leaning closer, finding it hard to concentrate past the feeling of his abdomen clenching at the sight of her, the sight of the look in her eyes.

“Mmhmm,” she purred as she reached out to trace shapes along his gloved hand.  “Surprise me.”

“I want to take you back to the hotel and tear that dress off of you.  Or, better yet,” he added, voice dipping lower.  “Keep the dress on.  I want  _ you  _ to tear it off while I’m making your come over and over.”

Her eyelids fluttered and she made a soft noise in the back of her throat, lips parting slightly.  If Garrus could have duplicated her signature smirk, he would have.  But he couldn’t so he settled with, “How is that for something you didn’t know?”

“Well, I did know  _ that  _ already,” she breathed.  “But damned if it isn’t one of the hottest things anyone had ever said to me.”

“One of?” he asked, surprised.  The statement had been close to actually stinging him.

Shepard smirked.  “I specifically remember you telling me that you wished you could stay between my legs until I melted.”

Garrus let out a short bark of laughter, startling nearby diners.  He waved a quick sorry to them before turning his gaze back to the smirking Shepard.  “Do you still have the vid?”

“Fuck yes I still have the vid,” she chuckled, taking another sip of her wine.  

Garrus leaned in closer. “Have you watched it since we made it?  Maybe… while we were…. taking a break?”

The blush was back, darker this time.  She tried to hide her smile behind her wine glass.  “Maybe… unless that’s weird. In which case, no, never did.”

Somehow the thought of her watching their one and only sex vid, even while they were separated, made the dark urge in the pit of his stomach deepen.  His vision was getting more focused on all of the signs of arousal he could see on her face.  He could smell her desire, clinging to her skin like a perfume.

“Do you still have it on you?” he asked softly.

Shepard raised an eyebrow.  “I have a copy on my omni-tool, yeah.”

Garrus chuckled and lifted her hand to his mouth, brushing his face plates against her wrist.  “When we get to the hotel, let’s put it on the vid screen and see if I can turn you into a puddle.”

Shepard’s eyes fluttered again and he nipped her wrist, making her moan.  Louder than she probably intended to.

The nearby diners were staring again.

 

* * *

 

Garrus was in the middle of listening to Shepard moan as she writhed underneath him - and listening to Shepard on the vid panting as she rode him - when Shepard’s omni-tool flared to life, flashing urgently.

“Fuck, shit,” she cursed, trying to pull up the message and then trying to read the message while Garrus continued to thrust into her.  After a few moments, though, she stilled beneath him. Garrus froze.  The look on her face was one of utter disbelief, of horror.

“What is it?” he asked.

“We need to go, we need to get dressed,” Shepard muttered frantically, pushing at his chest to get him to move.

“Shepard, what is going on?” he asked again, pulling out of her and stepping back, watching as she frantically grabbed her dress and panties.

“The Normandy,” she said in a rush.  “It was attacked.  The crew is gone.”

 

* * *

 

Garrus watched her. The Commander Shepard facade had taken over her face as she looked between all of the assembled crew.

“Okay,” she said, voice ringing with authority, with purpose.  “Tech Specialist will be Tali.  You’re going to be in charge of the vents.  It’s going to be tight, but we’ll do our best to support you from the outside.”

“I’m on it,” Tali said, her voice echoing with the same purpose that Shepard’s had.

“Shepard, you need to pick a second team leader,” Miranda said.  “I would be happy to take the role unless you have someone else in mind?”

Shepard glanced between the assembled crew.  Her gaze hesitated on Miranda and Jacob, but her eyes passed them and landed on Garrus.

_ No, _ Garrus thought, his heart sinking.  He needed to be with her - he needed to make sure someone was watching her back.  And who was more qualified for that than him?

“Garrus,” she said.  There was a tinge of regret there, but she pushed past it.  “Lead them well.”

Garrus nodded, swallowing back his disappointment.  She was his CO and they were in the midst of the most important battle of their lives.  Their suicide mission.  “I will, Shepard.”

Shepard cleared her throat and looked between the remaining members.  “Mordin, Jack, you’re with me.  The rest of you are with the support team.  Watch each other’s backs.  Protect one another. You’re only as good as the people beside you.”

“We won’t disappoint you, Shepard,” Jacob said.

Shepard smiled but it was a wry one.  She looked tired.  She looked worried.  Her commander mask was cracking at the edges.  “Don’t disappoint me or yourselves.  I… I don’t have any inspirational words for you.  I can’t tell you we’re all going to make it because the odds aren’t on our side.  I can’t even tell you that any of us will make it.  This might be the end of the line for us.  But it’s been a good ride and we’re going to be the unsung heroes when - not if - _when_ we destroy these motherfuckers.  So let’s get it done.”

Jack let out a loud “Hooyah!” which a few of the others echoed.  They all began filtering out, many of them stopping to offer Shepard words of encouragement or to brush her arm or shoulder in brief, gentle touches.

Jack, however, punched her in the shoulder.  “You got this, Shepard.  We’re gonna get these sons of bitches and get home in time for happy hour on Omega.”

“First round is on me,” Shepard laughed, rubbing her shoulder.

When Garrus and Shepard were the last ones in the room, Garrus went to her, wrapping her up in his arms.  “I wanted to be there with you.  At the end.”

Shepard stroked a hand over his arm.  “I need you to lead the others.  You’re the obvious choice.  The natural.”

Garrus tilted her face up to his.  “We’re going to make it through this.  All of us.”

Shepard sighed.  “You can’t know that.  They already killed me once.”

“We know our enemy now and we have the element of surprise and big guns,” he murmured, brushing his face plates across her lips.  “We still have about an hour before the Relay.  Why don’t you get some rest?”

Shepard chuckled humorlessly, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.  “I think I have a better idea.”

“Oh?”

She ran a hand over his healing mandible.  “Take me upstairs and make love to me.”

_ One last time,  _ her tone said.

Garrus kissed her again before taking her hand.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

* * *

 

Garrus gripped the back of Joker’s chair, his talons making deep furrows in the leather.

“Shepard, c’mon, don’t leave me hanging!” Joker said, the worry creeping into his voice as he tried to hail her over the comm.  “Come on, this thing is coming down.  We need to pick you up  _ now.” _

“Joker!”  

It wasn’t Shepard.  It was Jack.  

“Jack, where’s Shepard? Are you guys ready?”

“Get here, quick!  Shepard’s losing a lot of blood! I… I don’t know, she’s not waking up.  Get your ass here now!”

Garrus felt the breath leave his lungs.  He ran to the airlock as Joker deftly swung the Normandy toward the extraction point.  Garrus could hear Jack yelling for Grunt to grab Shepard and the pair were panting as they ran.  There was gunfire - so much gunfire.  Jack let out a small shout and began cursing.

“We’re coming in hot!” Grunt bellowed.  “Open the damn hatch!”

And then the hatch was opening and Grunt took a flying leap, Shepard flopping limply in his arms.  He hit the floor, hard, Shepard spilling out of his arms.

Garrus didn’t even wait to see if Jack, limping from a leg wound, made it on board.  He scooped Shepard up in his arms and ran toward medical, praying to any spirit or god that might be listening.

_ Let her live.  Let her live. _


	13. Out of Body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
> 
> The final chapter's song is ["Out of Body," by Gorillaz.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gawKAeTayNY) Enjoy!

_ Let her live  _ had become Garrus’ personal mantra.

Huerta Memorial Hospital had set her up in one of the larger rooms and, as far as Garrus could tell, she had more doctors than any other patient.  The list of doctors somehow including Miranda Lawson who was supervising the trauma to Shepard’s cybernetics, and Karin Chakwas, whose extensive knowledge of Shepard’s medical history came in handy.  And Chloe Michel was even a supporting presence, which Garrus was thankful for.  The woman's bedside manner was impeccable, Garrus knew from experience.

He knew she had the best team of professionals looking after her, but even so….

Even so, he couldn’t stand that he wasn’t allowed to go in to see her.

“You’re not kin,” Michel had said kindly, looking sympathetic.  “I’m sorry, Garrus, we can’t let friends in to see her yet.  She’s still not out of the woods.”

Garrus hadn’t bothered to correct her - to say he was her boyfriend, that she would want him there.  It wouldn’t have mattered, he knew.  There were rules in place.  Red tape.  Red tape that always got in his way.

So he paced the admitting area, he wandered the halls, he ate tasteless nutrient paste from the cafeteria.  The rest of the crew filtered in and out for the first few weeks, their faces carefully made up in optimism.

“She’ll be fine,” Joker assured him on the third week.  

She had already been through five surgeries to repair organ damage and replace some bones with more cybernetics.  She had been opened and sewed up over and over again and no one was giving him details about it.

Garrus tried to sound optimistic, too, but it was a losing battle.

Eventually, after the first month, people began to filter off of the Citadel.  Grunt had gone to Tuchanka, coming by to hand Garrus a virtual varren he had bought for Shepard.  “She said she wanted one,” he had explained awkwardly.  “Well… she said she wanted a real one.  This one is probably better for a warship.”

Garrus remembered that - when they were last on Tuchanka for Grunt’s Rite of Passage, Shepard had befriended a Varren, Urz, who followed her everywhere.  

Garrus held the small metal disc, careful not to press the button that called the Varren forth.  “She’ll love it, Grunt.”

Grunt made a strange noise in the back of her throat.  “She’s the best battle master anyone could have.”

“She is.”

He nodded and clapped Garrus on the shoulder, almost knocking him over.  “Bring her by Tuchanka sometime so we can kill stuff together.”

“I will,” Garrus promised, trying to keep the lump in his throat from choking him.

Thane and Kasumi were next to leave.  They had come by with bottles of wine, Shepard’s favorites, and silk flowers.

“Don’t know how long she’s planning on being Sleeping Beauty,” Kasumi explained awkwardly.  “Didn’t want to get her real ones in case they died before she woke up.”

Thane offered to pray for her.  Garrus wasn’t sure if it was something Shepard would want - she was a devout agnostic - but he agreed.  The three stood outside of her room, looking through the large windows, and Thane prayed.  

It was beautiful, Garrus had to admit.  Kasumi was crying under her hood, trying to cover it with a hand but failing.

Samara had stopped by briefly to hug Garrus and wish him, and Shepard, well.  “Do not hesitate to call me,” she murmured.  “Anytime.”

“I won’t,” Garrus murmured, but he knew he probably wouldn’t.  Maybe a ping to let her know when Shepard woke up.

Garrus wouldn’t let himself say  _ if Shepard woke up.   _ It didn’t help anyone, least of all himself.

Others left the station quietly, either with a single ping or none at all.  Garrus didn’t blame them.  Some of them, like Zaeed, were not close to her.  Other, like Jack and Jacob, were awkward with situations like these.  Situations like goodbyes.

No one knew where Legion had disappeared to.  One day he was on the Normandy, and the next… he was gone.

Mordin had called, at least, giving his condolences, saying he wanted to be there, but research on Sur’Kesh was drawing him away sooner than he liked.

Tali stayed on the Citadel for the first month and a half, checking on Garrus religiously, bringing him food, and sitting with him for hours on end.

“She’ll be fine,” Tali said for a millionth time.  “She always is.  And she had the best doctors, the best care.  When they wake her up, she’ll be ready to kick more reaper ass.”

Garrus chuckled, not sure if he’d ever heard her curse before.  

Even so, Tali eventually left when Kal’Reegar came for her.  She seemed apologetic to be leaving, murmuring that she wanted to be there, but Garrus waved it off.

“You have your fleet,” he said kindly.  “You have Kal.  Go be with them.”

Tali brushed a hand over her hood.  “How did you know?  About… Kal and me.”

Garrus chuckled.  “It’s not that hard, Tali.  You two are an obvious match.”

Tali seemed as though she wanted to say something else, but she only sighed.  She hugged Garrus goodbye, a lingering hug, and then departed without another word.

By week seven, Garrus was blanching at the staggering bill that was adding up daily.  He wasn’t sure if Shepard had the money to cover it all, but Garrus knew he didn’t.  He had paid almost all of his credits toward the bill, but it seemed to barely make a dent.

Garrus steeled himself for the call he needed to make.

“Garrus.”

“Dad,” he began softly.

“I didn’t think I would ever hear from you again.”

Garrus swallowed.  “I know.  I… had some stuff I had to do.”

“With Cerberus?”

Garrus winced.  His father didn’t sound mad, exactly.  Tired, perhaps.  “They were the only ones looking into the abductions happening all over the human colonies.”

Castis sighed.  “What do you need, Garrus?”

“Shepard’s in Huerta.  She’s… not doing well.”

Castis was quiet for a while before murmuring, “I’m sorry to hear that.  She used to be a good soldier.”

Garrus tried not to let the words sting.   _ Used to be.   _ “Dad, the medical bills… they keep piling up.  I… I can't pay these.”

“You want to see if I can send money,” Castis guessed.

Garrus swallowed.  “Yeah.”

Castis was quiet for so long that Garrus thought for sure that his father had disconnected the call.  But finally, he said, “Let me make some calls.”

Garrus waited by the medical terminal, checking it over and over again every five minutes, hoping and praying the number went down.

And then, after three hours, the cost was a quarter of what it had been.

Garrus called his father back immediately.  “I just saw… thank you.”

“I didn’t pay anything,” Castis murmured.  “I called some board members.  When they discovered it was a Spectre in that room, they had the hospital drop the extraneous fees.  She won’t be charged per day anymore, or room fees, just for the procedure costs and doctors.”

“Dad… thank you,” he whispered.  “I don’t… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Come home,” Castis said simply.  “When Shepard is up and moving… bring her here for rest and relaxation.  Your mother would like to meet her.”

Garrus nodded even though his father couldn’t see him.  “We will.”  When Castis said nothing, Garrus added, “Dad, we will.  I promise.”

“Your sister’s birthday was yesterday.  Call her.”

“I will, right now.”

Castis sighed.  “We miss you, son.  I don’t say it enough and we don’t keep in contact enough.   But… we all miss you.  And we’re happy that you’re happy with your human.”

“This… this means a lot to me.  And Shepard. As soon as she’s out of this hospital, we’ll be there.”

Castis hummed his approval.  “We will see you soon, then.”

When the call ended, Garrus sank into a chair and tried to collect his raging emotions.

 

* * *

 

He was awoken by Miranda gently shaking his shoulder.

“Is she awake?” he asked, instantly alert.

“We’re going to end the coma,” Miranda nodded with a faint smile.  “I have to tell you something, though.  It’s not… it’s not really my place to tell you, or your place to be told, but….”  She trailed off, glancing around.  There were a few people scattered around the room, not close enough to hear, but Miranda didn’t seem to like that.  “Come with me.”

She led him into Shepard’s room which was blessedly cool and blessedly empty.  Shepard was breathing normally, her long hair falling around her shoulders.  She looked peaceful.  She looked like she was sleeping.

“Garrus, we had to remove a lot of organs,” Miranda murmured.  “We replaced all that we could, but there…” she sighed, looking back at Shepard.  “We had to perform a full hysterectomy.  The damage to her abdomen was too extensive.  The reproductive organs were basically shredded apart, there was nothing we could do.   I know this doesn’t mean much for the two of you,” she added quickly.  “Biology wouldn’t allow you two to become pregnant, anyway, but… such a thing is hard for a lot of women,” Miranda said gently as if she knew from experience.  “Just… when you talk to her about it, be gentle and supportive.”

“Of course,” Garrus said as if it were obvious.  Hadn’t he been gentle and supportive with almost all of the things that had happened to her?

Miranda smiled and patted his arm.  “We’ve ended the medical coma.  She should wake up at any time.  It’s not policy, but I’m also not a doctor here, so… stay.”

The relief Garrus felt was immense.  He lowered himself into the uncomfortable chair by her bedside and took one of her hands in his.  “Thank you, Miranda.  For everything.”

Miranda smiled, looking slightly uncomfortable.  “I never thought I’d grow to like Shepard,” she admitted.  “Or you.  But you’re both good.  And good is something this galaxy needs more than anything.  More than Cerberus.  More than the Council.”

With that, she left the room, leaving Garrus alone with the woman he loved.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

Garrus thought he was dreaming.  But her voice was raspier, quieter than he remembered.  He opened his eyes and found Shepard watching him, smiling sleepily.

“Jane,” he breathed, squeezing her hand.

She tilted her head slightly and then winced at the motion.  “Did I die again?”

Garrus choked out a laugh.  “No, but you were damn close.  It was kind of a wonder we made it here in time.”

Shepard groaned as she tried to sit up, but Garrus gently pushed her back down.  “You need rest.”

“How long have I been out?” she asked, hand running over her abdomen, wincing slightly.  She pushed the blankets down and lifted the hospital gown, grimacing at the angry pink scar tissue covering her abdomen and pelvis.  “Shit, that looks awful.”

“You should have seen it before,” he murmured, gently brushing a hand over her jaw.  “You’ve been out for almost two months.”

Shepard groaned.  “No wonder I feel like I’ve melted into the bed.”

“Doctors say your PT is going to start tomorrow, as long as you’re up to it.  And then you can get out of here.”

Shepard nodded.  “I’ll be done with PT in a week, tops.”

“Shepard, that’s… highly unlikely.”

Shepard shrugged.  “For a normal person, maybe.  I’m goddamn Commander Shepard.”

Garrus laughed, leaning in to brush his faceplates against her cheek.  “Take it easy, Shepard.  I mean it.”

Shepard smiled and ran a hand over his healed mandible.  “They took the bandage off?”

“Yeah, good as new,” he laughed.  “As long as you ignore the awful scars.”

“The scars are hot,” she grinned.

“So are yours,” he murmured.

Shepard, surprisingly, blushed a bit while smirking at him.  “I think we need a vacation.  Somewhere warm and tropical.”

“About that….” Garrus began, noting the worry that covered her face.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Well, I kind of told my dad we would take a little vacation on Palaven.”

Shepard’s eyes lit up in excitement.  “Really?  Oh my God, that’s great!  We said our next vacation needed to be on Palaven.”

So they had.  While laying under the stars somewhere in Georgia, Shepard had said she wanted to see his homeworld.  Take some time out on the black sand beaches.

“One week,” she repeated, nodding.  “I’ve got something great to look forward to.”

Garrus chuckled, kissing her, feeling more relief than he knew was possible.

She had lived.  She had lived.  She had lived.


End file.
